The Scarab Society
by Brunette
Summary: [HIATUS.] Modern AU. FBI Agent Ardeth Bay thinks he might finally be on his way to putting the mysterious international criminal, Imhotep, behind bars when he meets ex-con Rick O'Connell. But their search for the truth is about to get terribly complicated...by four women. Rick/Evy. Ardeth/OC.
1. A Simple Kind of Man

**_Author's Note. _**_I've been planning out this story for a little while now, trying to fit in the characters I want to use and coming up with the appropriate backstories. I think I'm to the point now where I can start it. It's been a while since someone has written a story putting the characters in modern times, and I thought it might be a fun change of scene._

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song "Simple Man" by Lynyrd Skynyrd. Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**A Simple Kind of Man**

"Mr. O'Connell?"

Rick's eyelids fluttered. The room seemed much too bright as he opened his eyes a crack and attempted to make out the figure standing next to his bed. He reached a hand up to rub his face, which was sore and a little swollen under his fingertips. He breathed a sigh that sent a sharp pain through his ribs, and he tried to look at the man again.

He was tall, dark skinned with curly black hair that fell to his shoulders. He wore a well-trimmed black beard and was dressed in a smart black suit. Rick couldn't be sure, but he thought it looked as if the man had make-up on his face. The man gave him a cordial smile and held out his hand. Rick looked at it curiously, and reached out to give it a shake.

"My name is Ardeth Bay. I'm a special agent with the FBI," he said in a smooth, cultured voice, using his other hand to flash his badge. He released Rick's hand and glanced at the chair at his bedside. "Do you mind if I have a seat?"

Rick shrugged. He watched Ardeth Bay take a seat and pull himself a little closer to the bed.

"So what do you want?" he asked. A throbbing pain was growing in his ear.

Ardeth glanced at his hands a moment, folding them in front of him. "Do you...remember what happened to you, Mr. O'Connell?"

"You can call me Rick," he said. "And I remember."

"Good," he said. Ardeth leaned over and picked up a briefcase from off of the floor. "Would you mind telling me about the incident?"

Rick eyed him suspiciously. "Why?"

Ardeth didn't look up from his briefcase, flipping open the clasps and rummaging through some papers. "Because I think you might have some useful information concerning a man we're searching very hard to find."

"So what's in it for me?"

Ardeth glanced up, his dark eyes flashing to his. "I might have a proposal for you, if you have the kind of information we're looking for."

Rick scoffed. "My head's killing me."

Ardeth frowned, scanning Rick's bed before reaching over and grabbing an oblong remote. He pressed a red button, and a moment later, a woman's voice came over the intercom overhead:

"Can I help you?"

"Mr. O'Connell would like some pain medication for his head," Ardeth said loudly.

"I'll send your nurse."

Ardeth sighed, returning back to his papers. Rick started to ask him what information he was looking for, but he was silenced with a look. They waited together in the awkward quiet until a nurse showed up with a bag of fluid. Rick barely responded to her cheery questions about how he was feeling. She hung the IV and hurried out of the room.

"You are an interesting man, Rick," Ardeth said finally, his eyebrows raising at the paper in his hand. "I see here that you could have left three months ago on good behavior, but you chose to stay in prison."

"So?"

Ardeth shrugged, meeting his eyes. "So why would you do that?"

Rick let out a gruff sigh. "Are you just going to quiz me on my past, or are you going to tell me what you want from me?"

Ardeth chuckled. "Perhaps I should wait until that medicine kicks in."

"It's kicked in," Rick retorted. "I just don't like being kept in the dark."

"And you don't like cops, either, I suppose."

Rick gave him a sarcastic smile. "How'd you guess?"

Ardeth's eyes returned to the paper. "It seems to be a trend with people in prison."

Rick didn't say anything and leaned into his pillow. The pain in his body was slowly melting away, and he felt as if he could relax now. He glanced down at the end of the bed and noticed his foot handcuffed to the bedrail.

"You were incarcerated for bank robbery, along with your partner...Beni Gabor, who, it seems, was just released today. And you both served...five years. What is your relationship to Mr. Gabor?"

Rick sighed. "So we_ are_ going to rehash my past, then?"

Ardeth ignored him, continuing to scan through his papers. "Oh, that's interesting. The two of you spent your adolescent years in the same foster home. I guess that explains your relationship."

Rick turned and looked at this guy, in his nice suit and his briefcase, and felt himself growing angrier by the second.

"Look, what's it gonna take for you to get to the point of this little visit?"

Ardeth raised his eyebrows and glanced up at him. "Well, if you answered my questions, this might go a bit faster."

"I don't see how any of this is cause for a federal investigation."

The agent took a breath and leaned back in his seat. He met Rick's eyes evenly and patiently, and looked as if he was trying not to smile.

"Rick, I promise I'm not wasting your time," he said gently. "It's just...it's very important that I know the sort of man you are before I ask you about the incident. I need to know if I can trust your word, or else I am wasting both of our time. Do you understand?"

Rick glanced down at his hand, noticing how raw and swollen his knuckles were. He nodded slowly.

"Good," Ardeth said. "Now, I don't like to play games. I have been reading over your file for the past few hours. You are not an unfamiliar story. Orphaned at the age of six, shuffled between relatives before ending up in foster care, where you were...something of a troubled adolescent. You graduated high school, at least, and then moved on to some factory and warehouse work before robbing this bank with your foster brother."

Rick sighed. Something about hearing his past summarized in a few short sentences made him uncomfortable. Almost as if he didn't have a name; as if he was just a tally mark in a statistic.

"Yep," he said. He started to cross his arms over his chest, but when he noticed the enormous needle in his hand, he quickly put it back down on the bed.

"Why didn't you leave prison early?" Ardeth asked again. "Were you afraid?"

Rick scoffed. "All I wanted was to get out of there."

"So why didn't you? The opportunity was presented..."

"I couldn't..." Rick took a breath. "Look, I just couldn't leave Beni there alone. Have you seen the guy?"

Ardeth flipped through some papers. He paused at one and scanned it. "He's small. Five-foot, ten. A hundred and forty pounds."

"Yeah, exactly," Rick said. "Do you know what happens to guys like that in prison? I couldn't leave him there. He would've been eaten alive."

Ardeth nodded slowly, gazing at the paper a moment longer before glancing up at Rick. He watched him with quiet, sympathetic eyes a moment before saying quietly:

"And you remember what happened to you."

Rick swallowed hard and nodded. He cleared his throat, and his voice didn't sound quiet as apathetic as he meant it to. "Yeah, I guess he didn't feel like paying me the same favor."

Ardeth sighed, his gaze unwavering. "Tell me what happened."

He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. He felt a sharp pang in his heart as he thought back through what had happened, but he pushed it away and started talking.

"It was early in the morning. I don't know. We were supposed to be released, so I was getting my stuff together, and that's when Lock and a couple of guys came into my cell. They started bothering me about something, I don't know. Some liquor store robbery they thought I was a part of. I had no idea what they were talking about. The next thing I knew, I was trying to defend myself against six guys. They kept telling me I had to answer for Baltus, and I told them I had no idea who that even was. But apparently Beni told them I did, and everyone knew we were foster brothers. So they didn't believe me."

Ardeth nodded slowly. "You say Lock attacked you. Is that Tiberius Lock, who goes by the alias 'Lock-Nah'?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

Ardeth slid all of his papers back in his briefcase and snapped it shut. "And you don't know anything about this Baltus they were referring to?"

Rick shook his head. "Never heard of him."

Ardeth sighed, rising to his feet. "You have given us a very...intriguing connection."

Rick frowned in confusion, and he pulled himself up in bed a little. "Hey, wait a minute. What's this all about?"

The agent looked him over carefully, his eyes unreadable. "Those men who beat you...I believe they are part of a larger criminal organization operating in this city. Baltus Hafez was the curator at one of the local museums. He was murdered in his house, where the police confiscated a large quantity of cocaine and a few priceless artifacts. Until today, there's never been any proof of a connection between him and criminals like Lock. You are not the only one who heard them yelling about Mr. Hafez, but since you were the one they were beating, I thought perhaps you might know more about his involvement with them."

Rick mulled this around in his head a moment before looking Ardeth over with narrowed eyes. "And that deal you mentioned?"

Ardeth shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I cannot make good on that. You don't have the kind of information we were hoping for."

Rick nodded quietly. The agent offered him a smile and his hand.

"I have been told you'll be released from prison upon your discharge from the hospital."

Rick took his hand and gave it a shake.

"Congratulations," Ardeth added, turning to go.

Rick nodded again, starting to settle himself back against the pillow. His hands were shaking. He glanced up, seeing the agent's back at the door now, and he couldn't seem to stop himself:

"That Baltus guy, when was he murdered?"

Ardeth paused, turning to face him. "Six years ago, in December."

Rick stared thoughtfully at his sheets. He could feel the agent watching him intently.

"He lived in a big house, in that gated community on the West End."

"That's right."

Rick looked up, meeting Ardeth's eyes now. "I might know something about that."

Ardeth crossed the room slowly and took his seat again. "I thought you said you didn't know who he was."

Rick shook his head. "I didn't know his name. But you said he was a curator, and then there was the cocaine..."

The agent leaned forward in interest. "What do you know?"

But Rick held up a finger. "You first. What's in it for me if I tell you?"

Ardeth took a deep breath. "I suppose that's fair." He looked into his eyes steadily for a moment. "Rick, I do not think you're a bad person. I think you're a good man in a bad environment, and you proved that to me when you said you stayed in prison to protect your friend. Frankly, I'd rather have you working on my side."

Rick's eyebrows jerked up incredulously. "You want me to join the FBI?"

Ardeth shook his head. "I am afraid you can't do that, with your criminal record."

"Well what, then?"

Ardeth took a breath, meeting his eyes very seriously. "I want you to help us. Can you spare a few weeks?"

Rick stared at him. "A few _weeks?"_

"Yes. We would pay you for your time."

Rick scoffed, shaking his head. "And what am I supposed to tell my girlfriend?"

Ardeth shrugged. "Anything you like. Tell her the truth. Or tell her you had to stay a little longer in prison because of your fight. It doesn't matter."

Rick sighed, staring at this man for what felt like a long time. After a moment, he let out a sigh.

"So what am I 'helping' you with?"


	2. Moss Grows Fat on a Rolling Stone

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song "American Pie" by Don McLean. Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**Moss Grows Fat on a Rolling Stone**

Renee sat up a little in her seat and tried not to look disappointed as she watched the lonely form hurrying towards her car. She'd gotten off of the phone with Rick only an hour ago, when she'd received the disappointing news that he wouldn't be joining Beni in being released today. Something about a prison fight...He'd assured her he wasn't hurt, and that he'd see her in a few weeks. She'd felt strangely distrustful of him on the phone...there was something about the sound of his voice that seemed hollow. But Rick wouldn't lie to her.

She caught Beni's eyes through her windshield and smiled, hopping out of the car. Despite her disappointment at Rick's news, she felt a surprising sense of warmth at seeing Beni again. It had always been the three of them in the Winslow's home; other children came and went, picked up by family members and then returned, or even occasionally adopted. But not them. Rick's parents were dead. Her parents were dead. And Beni's parents had abandoned him at a gas station when he was eight, never to come searching for him again.

Renee supposed that's why she did her best not to look too disappointed at just seeing Beni. He'd spent his whole life being no one's first choice, and even though he wasn't hers, she still felt badly for him.

She wrapped her arms around him in a hug and pretended she didn't notice him copping a feel.

"Oh, my God, Dez!" he said in his nasally, accented voice, holding her out at arm's length. His greasy smirk made her uncomfortable, and she glanced away from him. "What happened to your hair?"

She shrugged stiffly. "I highlighted it..."

"You are like Malibu Barbie," he said. "Are you wearing a dress?"

Renee scoffed, glancing down the length of her eyelet lace sundress and trying to hide her blush. "Well, obviously."

Beni shook his head. "This is what happens when I go away for five years?"

She rolled her eyes, pulling him towards the car. "Come on. I don't want to sit out in this parking lot all day."

He was happy to oblige, trotting over to the passenger side and hopping in. By the time she had taken her seat on the driver's side, he was rifling through her glove compartment.

"Come on, Dez, where are your cigarettes?"

Renee cleared her throat awkwardly. "Um, I quit."

Beni let out a groan. "Oh, my_ God,_ Destiny."

She sighed awkwardly, her hands flexing on the steering wheel. "Um...and that's another thing. I've been...going by my middle name now."

Renee kept her eyes steady on the road, but she could feel his disbelieving stare boring into the side of her face.

"What?"

"Renee," she said quietly.

"Get the fuck out," he said, shaking his head. "Who are you, and what happened to my foster sister?"

She sighed, her heart thumping nervously. She wasn't sure she could explain these changes to Beni, but she figured it was worth a try.

"Well, I...I started going to college last year. There's lots of scholarships and aid and stuff out there for underpriveleged women, and I was able to go for almost nothing...so I did. I'm going to be a nurse."

Beni scoffed. "So? You go to college and now you're someone else?"

Renee shook her head. "No! I just...well, Destiny isn't really a very professional name, and...you know, it's just good to look professional. In this economy."

"Whatever," he said tersely. "I am still not calling you Renee."

"That's fine."

"Holy shit, Dez," he muttered, drumming his fingers in agitation. He glanced over at her with big, woeful eyes. "Well, can we at least stop for some cigarettes? I'm dying over here."

Renee shrugged. "I was thinking I'd take you out to lunch."

Beni's mood brightened considerably. She glanced at him and shook her head.

"You look like you dropped twenty pounds."

He scoffed. "Have you tried prison food? It's terrible."

Renee chuckled. "Where do you want to eat?"

"I don't care. I just want a big steak. And a lobster. And a whole bottle of wine."

Renee eyed him in amusement. "You know, for a poor man, you have really expensive taste."

He offered her an ugly grin. "Why do you think I became a thief?"

She laughed, and pulled the car into the first steakhouse she saw. Beni was happy to gorge himself on fried calamari and warm bread and olive oil; he didn't have much to say, and Renee didn't either. She let him order a whole bottle of wine and indulged herself in a glass, trying to dull the discomfort of a guilty memory before it could settle into her features. She watched him as he ripped the plump, white meat from the lobster tail and sawed into a tender filet mignon, and wondered all the time if he ever thought about New Year's Eve.

He noticed her gaze and looked up at her in surprise.

"What?"

But Renee only shook her head. "Nothing." She forced a little smile. "I guess it's just...it's good to see you again."

She hadn't seen him since New Year's Eve, five years go. Well, except for a brief visit through the plexiglass, when she'd come up to see Rick for Christmas. She hadn't missed Beni. She'd spent the time since New Year's wishing...just wishing she might forget. But her guilt persisted. Sometimes she'd dream it in vivid color, and be reduced to that fresh, nauseous guilt all over again.

She glanced at him again, chowing down as if New Year's Eve had never even happened. But of course, it _had_ happened. There was no escaping that.

Beni leaned back in the booth, satisfied - or as close to satisfied as he ever got. He stretched his arms over his head and yawned.

"Let's go."

She paid the hefty tab and they started for the car. It was starting to get dark, and his steps wavered a little from the wine.

"Let me drive."

Renee rose an eyebrow. "I think you lost your license after the felony."

"So?" he scoffed.

She shook her head. "There's no way I'm letting you drive my car."

"Oh,_ come on,_ Dez..." She hadn't missed that grating whine. "You know how much I like to drive."

Renee sighed, her keys firmly clutched in her hand. "No."

"Fine," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. He leaned against her car door with a sour look on his face. She stared at him incredulously, and he stared back. She watched his eyes drop from hers, slipping down her body and back up again. She felt cold with guilt all over again. "Then get in the backseat with me."

She shook her head. "No, Beni."

He gave her the superior edge of his sneer. "Oh? Would you rather it be a bathroom stall? In a bar?"

Renee's fists tightened at her side. She supposed she ought to be surprised it had taken him this long to drag it up.

"I'm with Rick," she said firmly.

He scoffed. "You were with Rick then, too."

Renee could only shake her head. "That was a mistake."

"So?" he said, a dirty smile crawling into the corner of his mouth. "Let's make another mistake."

He reached for her arm, but she quickly jerked it away. He let out a long sigh and gave her a desperate, pathetic look.

"Oh, come on, Dez," he said, drawing his voice out in a whine. "I have been in prison for five years! Do you know what that is like for a man? I am practically exploding!"

Renee's mouth twisted. "That's...graphic."

_"Destiny..."_

He drew her name out to a ridiculous length, reaching for her arm again.

"Do you really think that's in any way enticing?" Renee snapped, pulling her arm away from him again.

He took a step towards her, and she stayed her ground. She met his wide eyes evenly.

"You would really let me suffer?" he said dramatically. "As pretty as you look right now?"

"I got dressed up for Rick," she said.

He shrugged nonchalantly, glancing at his feet. "Rick is not here." He took another little step closer, and her legs tightened, but she didn't step back. "Hasn't it been five years for you, too?"

Renee sucked in a little breath. She crossed her arms over her chest and rocked back on her heels, but she didn't take a retreating step.

"I've had to live with what we did for the past five years, and it's been killing me. So knock it off. I'm not going to sleep with you."

Beni let out a groaning sigh, and after another moment of his pathetic expression proved useless, he trudged over to the passenger side of the car and got inside. Renee took a deep breath, and got in on her side. She started the car and turned on the radio to make his pouting less effective. Something pop-y and new came on, and Beni snorted. He reached over and twisted the dial absentmindedly as she drove, until -

_"Well I know that you're in love with him  
'Cause I saw you dancing in the gym.."_

Despite her previous frustrations with Beni, Renee's face broke into a grin. She glanced over and met Beni's smile.

"Do you still know all the words?" he asked.

She giggled, giving him a little nod. "Do you?"

He picked up the line in his off-key nasal, and she joined him in her enthusiastic (though short-ranged) soprano:

_"I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck  
With a pink carnation and a pick-up truck  
But I knew I was out of luck  
The day the music died..."_

They sang together with stupid smiles plastered on their faces as she drove to her apartment building. She pulled into a parking spot in the middle of the last verse, and they sat together in the dark, singing that this would be the day that they'd die until the music faded away and some annoying radio announcer started babbling in its place. She chuckled, reaching over to turn down the voice, and caught Beni's eye in the darkness. She leaned over and pecked his cheek, but he turned her face to his and pulled her into a kiss. Her whole body stiffened, and she wanted to tell him to stop, but the way he was kissing her was making it hard to think.

It_ had_ been five years.

With Rick in prison and the horrible guilt leftover from her drunken New Year's Eve tryst with Beni, Renee had resolved to stay as celibate as a nun. Despite the hours she spent wondering if she and Rick even belonged together anymore. Despite all of her painstaking changes from foster care white trash to successful college student. Despite the cute pre-med students and the interns at work who asked her out for coffee. She was determined not to slip up again. If she and Rick had grown apart - so be it. But she couldn't bear to break it off with him because she was disloyal.

But here she was again. Disloyal. Climbing over the console and into Beni's lap because...

_Because..._

She didn't know why. Except that it had been a very long time, and she was lonely, and she didn't care if it was Beni or someone else. She just wanted to be with somebody. She'd waited this long for Rick and he'd been an idiot in a prison brawl. _God,_ her boyfriend was in prison...She sounded so pathetically trashy. She _was_ so pathetically trashy. It didn't matter that the dress she was wearing had cost a hundred dollars; it was still being pulled over her head _in a car_. She was having sex in a car. Like a teenager. Or a prostitute. God, was there any escaping it?

Her mind went blank for a few moments, and then it was done. She opened her eyes, and that sick feeling dropped into her stomach again.

"Hey," she whispered, "I hate to be...anyway. I'm just going to say it. I don't think you should stay with me."

Beni leaned his head against the seat, watching her with dull eyes. "Why?"

Renee sighed, reaching awkwardly for her dress. "Um, well..." She pulled it back over her head and adjusted it over her body. "My roommate. She's kind of...I just don't think she'd like having a man overnight."

"Is she a Christian or something?"

She shook her head. "I don't...think so..."

"Come on, Dez. Where am I supposed to go?"

Renee sighed again, nodding her head slowly. She suddenly noticed that she was rubbing her hand over his arm thoughtlessly, and quickly stopped. As soon as her hand dropped into her lap, she noticed a strange mark where it had been.

"Did you get a tattoo?"

Beni snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and hiding the mark. "So what if I did?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were terrified of needles. And pain."

He shrugged. She eyed him another moment before snatching his arm and turning it over. A strange, beetle-like emblem was crudely etched into his skin.

"What is it?"

"It's a scarab. Are you going to invite me up or not?"

Renee glanced up at the building through the rear window and let out a long sigh. "Come on. I'll tell Evelyn you're my brother. It's kind of true. And hers stays over all the time..."


	3. Sparks Fly from Her Fingertips

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song "Witchy Woman" by the Eagles. Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

**Sparks Fly From Her Fingertips**

"Agent Daniels, I am going to have to ask you to calm down."

"Calm down?" Daniels demanded. _"Calm down?_ Chief, my partner was just gunned down in a _strip club!_ By a_ stripper!"_

Ardeth sighed, shifting his weight in his seat. He could feel Rick's eyes on him uncomfortably. He glanced between the two men in his office; Rick O'Connell sitting stiffly in one chair, his face still a little purple in places from the beating. And Daniels, up on his feet, leaning over his desk and slamming his fists on the hard wood.

"I understand that," he said patiently.

"Do you...want me to go?" Rick asked. Ardeth shook his head. Daniels turned his head and looked at the man seated quietly in the chair, as if noticing him for the first time.

"Who the hell are you?"

"This is Rick O'Connell," Ardeth said. "He's going to be helping us with the Scarab Society case."

Daniels snorted, sizing Rick up in a glance. He motioned at his bruised face. "Should I see the other guy?"

Rick stared at him in blank confusion, and Daniels let out a sigh. "You know, like the saying. 'You should see the other guy.' Come on, O'Connell."

He turned his attention quickly back to Ardeth. "What am I supposed to tell Burns' family? Hell, Megan! What am I supposed to tell her?"

Ardeth sighed. "Megan...that's Agent Burns' fiancee?"

Daniels nodded his head. Ardeth watched him steadily for a moment. "I'll handle his family."

"He was _my_ partner!"

Ardeth rose an eyebrow. "He was my agent. And I'm afraid one of the great burdens of being in charge is having to talk to loved ones in situations like this. Now," he said, taking a deep breath and pulling some paperwork out from a drawer. "Tell me exactly what happened. Which club did you go to?"

Daniels swallowed hard, and glanced at his feet. "Um...it was...the Howler."

Ardeth's frowned curiously. "The Howler? I don't remember giving you an assignment up there last night."

Daniels bit his lip, and then straightened and met his chief's eyes evenly. "You didn't. We, uh, we went there for Burns'...bachelor party."

Ardeth stared at him for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face. Rick was feeling more uncomfortable than ever.

"Let me get this straight," Ardeth said quietly, his voice struggling to retain a mask of calm. "You took an FBI agent to a strip club that we _know_ is operated by members of the Scarab Society, and frequented by members of the Scarab Society, with no form of protection or back-up...for a bachelor party?"

Daniels swallowed hard.

"Why on earth would you do that?"

The agent shifted his weight awkwardly, and couldn't quite look at Ardeth when he said, "Well...there was this girl he liked..."

Ardeth's eyes narrowed. "Agent Daniels, do you think when I assign you to these places, that it's for your own amusement?"

"No..."

"Do you think I thought to myself, 'Agents Daniels and Burns would enjoy an assignment at a strip club'?"

Daniels' eyes flashed up to his, and he said again, through gritted teeth. "No."

Ardeth met his glare evenly. "That's good. Because I don't send you to these places for a good time."

Daniels started to sputter something, but Ardeth interrupted him in a cold, commanding tone:

"Now tell me exactly what happened."

So Daniels told him.

It was loud in the strip club, nearing on midnight on a Friday, and he'd had just enough Jager to suggest they show Henderson the Howler. Burns didn't think it was such a good idea, but he went along with it. Burns always went along with these kind of things. Because, after all, shouldn't Henderson see the Mistress? It's not every day he saw a girl who can dance like that.

They pushed through the crowd to the bar and asked Gad if she was here tonight. He assured them that she was, and was happy to push aside some disgruntled customers to give them a front row seat. Daniels kept elbowing Henderson, trying to get him as hyped for the Mistress as he should be, but he just sat back in his easy way and chewed his tobacco.

And then she was on the stage. Flawless as always. Long, golden legs and long black hair. She was exotic, with her catlike eyes and proud features. He'd heard at some point that she was from Egypt. She was dressed in a cop costume, and she strode right to where they were in long, fluid steps, as if walking in platform heels was as natural to her as going barefoot. She smiled at Burns, and he blushed.

"Agent Burns," she said.

And that's when Daniels knew something was wrong. They'd been undercover at the club for weeks, posing as a couple of bored factory workers. Thus far, he'd thought they had kept up their cover remarkably well, but now -

She put her heeled foot on Burns' shoulder and pushed him back against his chair. She reached into the hip holster on her costume, and pulled out a gun. Daniels' eyes widened. He grabbed Burns' arm and tried to jerk him out of her aim, but she fired before he could pull the man out from under her foot. A direct shot, right to his forehead. Burns slumped and bled.

The Mistress met his eyes, and then turned and strode off. Daniels jumped onto the stage and chased after her, but he was stopped by a bouncer. He started to shout that he was with the FBI, but quickly stopped himself mid-sentence. If they had the balls to kill Burns, in the plain sight of everyone, then they would certainly do the same to him backstage. Not knowing what else to do, he rushed back to his friends.

"Do you have any reason to believe they know you're an agent, too?" Ardeth asked, interrupting his story.

Daniels sighed. "I don't know. At the time, I thought they didn't...but now I ain't so sure."

Ardeth let out a sigh. "We cannot risk your safety as well. I will go out there later today."

Daniels scoffed, trying to pin back a smirk. "Are you sure, Chief? It ain't exactly your kind of place."

Ardeth's eyebrows rose. "This might shock you, Agent Daniels, but I have, in fact, seen a naked woman before."

Daniels cleared his throat awkwardly and glanced at the floor. "Yeah...I didn't mean...um...Of course you have."

His chief changed the subject easily. "I believe we have a database of the people who work at the Howler. Do you know this woman by a name? Or just...'the Mistress'?"

Daniels' face twisted thoughtfully. "I think her name is something like Mia...Meela, maybe?"

Ardeth looked annoyed, but quickly hid his aggravated expression behind cool eyes. "Could you identify her by a picture, perhaps?"

Daniels nodded. "Oh, sure." He sighed, taking a step back. "I think it_ is_ Meela, actually."

Ardeth nodded absentmindedly and dismissed him. As the door closed behind Daniels, he turned and looked Rick in the eye.

"You said a woman approached you about murdering Baltus Hafez?"

Rick sighed. "Well, yeah, but the chances of this being the same woman..."

But Ardeth was ignoring him, typing furiously into his computer and frowning at the screen. Rick watched him in silence as he reached for his mouse and clicked impatiently for a moment. And then he stopped. He motioned Rick over to the other side of the desk, and he pointed at the face on the screen.

Rick's stomach dropped. Those cold, dark eyes staring back at him were as familiar now as they were six years ago; the slight smirk, the superior way she held her chin...

"That's her," he whispered.

Ardeth glanced up at him. "Are you sure?"

Rick stared back into his eyes. "Absolutely."

"Meela Nais," Ardeth said quietly. "We don't know much about her. Daniels and Burns incorrectly assumed she was just another dancer at the club. Do you remember if she had a tattoo? Particularly one somewhere on her arm. It would have been shaped like a beetle."

Rick shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. I wasn't paying much attention to that."

"Here Daniels reported that she was clean of tattoos, but that means nothing. Tattoos can easily be covered up."

Rick glanced over at Ardeth, noticing again the chalky powder over his cheekbones and forehead. He_ was_ wearing make-up. He stared steadily at Meela's image a moment longer, and then shook his head.

"I am getting the sense that she is more important to the Scarab Society than we realized."

Rick sighed, taking a step away from the desk. "Well, if she is, she's long gone now. You don't stick around after killing an FBI agent."

Ardeth nodded, pulling himself quickly from his seat. "We need to get to the Howler immediately."

Rick's eyebrows jerked up. "'We'?"

But the FBI agent wasn't listening to him. He was busy closing out of his computer and gathering files from a drawer. He breathed a heavy sigh, reminded of Agent Burns of the sudden.

"And then I have a few phone calls to make," he said quietly. He stared at his desk for a brief moment, and then straightened, meeting Rick's eyes with a calm, determined expression. "Let's go."


	4. Wayward Son

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song "Carry On, My Wayward Son" by Kansas. Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**Wayward Son**

Evelyn watched the unsightly man in her kitchen with narrowed eyes. She liked Renee, and she'd been an agreeable roommate so far, but she wasn't sure she could stand for this skinny, nervous little man raiding her refridgerator wearing only his underwear. Renee had told her that he was her brother - well, her foster brother - and that he'd just spent the last six months camping in Alaska. Renee wasn't usually the type to lie, but still...Evelyn seriously doubted that. She'd said nothing when they both went back to her bedroom to go to sleep, even though she thought it was very peculiar for adult people who referred to each other as siblings to share a bed - even if they_ weren't_ actually related. But she couldn't find it in her to keep her mouth shut this morning.

"Um, hello," she said, pulling her robe a little tighter around her. "Beni, was it?"

He glanced over at her, one hand full of Oreos and a cold hot dog hanging halfway out of his mouth. He pulled the hot dog from between his teeth and chewed and swallowed a bite.

"I don't mean to be inhospitable," she said carefully, "but how long do you intend on staying with us?"

Beni shrugged, taking another bite from his hot dog. Evelyn glanced down and tried to hide a grimace. Watching him eat cold leftover hot dogs at this hour made her want to gag.

"Do you, um, drink tea or coffee?" she asked, not quite looking at him as she shuffled around him to the stove. She opened a cupboard door and pulled out her tea kettle, and took an uncomfortable step nearer to him to fill it with water from the tap.

"I would have some coffee."

Evelyn nodded, putting her kettle on the stovetop and lighting the burner before slipping over to Renee's coffee pot.

"So," she sighed, awkwardly forced into close quarters with him again as she filled up the pot. "You were in Alaska for six months."

"Yep."

Evelyn nodded again. "I'm sure that was...quite an adventure."

He gave her a sarcastic smile. "Yep."

The pot was finally full and Evelyn moved gratefully back over to the coffee maker, filling it up with water. She searched the cupboards for Renee's filters and coffee; Evelyn never made coffee. She watched Renee do it every morning, though, so she figured she could make a respectable pot.

"Is Renee...sleeping?"

Beni frowned at her curiously before realization hit him. "Ohh, you mean Dez. I think she's in the shower."

"Oh."

Evelyn got the coffee perking and brushed past him to the fridge. She hurriedly breathed an "excuse me," her skin crawling a little at touching him. She told herself he was probably a perfectly nice person - Renee wouldn't bring someone dangerous or unsavory into their apartment. But still, something about him made her uneasy.

She was saved from her thoughts and the pressure of a forced conversation with Beni when Renee entered the room. Evelyn breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good morning," she said. "I've started your coffee."

Renee smiled. "Thanks." She turned and looked at Beni. "Seriously? You can't put clothes on?"

He gave her a look and whined, "My clothes are dirty. Remember?"

Renee let out a sigh, pushing past him to the coffee pot. She glanced at the hot dog in his left hand and the Oreos in his right, and grimaced.

"Are you thirteen?"

He scoffed. "You know I have not had anything good in forever."

She shook her head. "I swear to God, your stomach must be made out of cast iron. I can't believe you're even hungry after all you ate last night."

Beni shrugged and popped an Oreo cookie in his mouth. "I have a fast metabolism."

Renee snorted. "You're like thirty. It has to slow down sometime."

"I am twenty-eight," he retorted. "And I am offended you forgot."

Renee rolled her eyes and poured herself a cup of coffee, slipping past him to the fridge for her cream. He took the cup from her hand and took a sip, responding to her annoyed glance with a sarcastic, "thank you."

Evelyn watched them curiously, not sure what to make of their odd dynamic. Renee offered to make him some eggs and he sat down at the kitchen table with his stolen cup of coffee. He sat there sipping coffee and she stood at the stove, as if they did this every morning. She didn't have to ask him how he wanted his eggs, and he didn't have to tell her. It was so very odd to Evelyn, seeing her roommate so intimately familiar with someone she'd never even mentioned more than once or twice.

Renee fixed herself a new cup of coffee and glanced at Evelyn curiously.

"I thought you had class?"

Evelyn sighed, starting to answer her when her kettle whistled. She got up and prepared her tea, setting the teapot out of the way to steep.

"It's cancelled," she sighed. "Dr. Chamberlain sent us an e-mail this morning. His daughter's fiance was killed last night."

Renee gasped. "Oh, that's terrible. Was he in a car accident or something?"

Evelyn shook her head. "I don't know. He didn't say. But I know he worked for the FBI, so I hope it wasn't something too grisly."

Renee sighed, taking a sip of her coffee. "When were they supposed to get married?"

Her roommate shrugged. "I don't remember. I thought this month sometime."

"That's terrible," Renee said again, grabbing her spatula to flip the eggs. She turned off the burner and reached in the cupboard for a plate. "I don't know how you eat your eggs practically raw," she said, handing Beni his breakfast.

"It is called sunnyside up, and lots of people eat them that way," he retorted. She sighed and handed him a fork.

"Evelyn, you want some eggs while I have the skillet hot?"

She shook her head, "No thank you."

Evelyn stood and slipped past Renee to the cupboard, finding a teacup and filling it with Earl Grey. She looked between the two of them awkwardly - Beni eating happily away at his eggs and Oreos, and Renee lighting the burner again to scramble herself a few eggs. With a sigh, she excused herself and her tea to her room. Just as she was closing her door behind her, she heard Beni tell Renee that he was going out tonight, and might not be back until late.

Evelyn sighed, pushing away the thoughts of how to confront Renee on her brother and his ambiguous length of stay. Or, foster brother...Friend. Her friend. Evelyn couldn't really think of them in the sibling context without getting a little squeamish. She knew Renee had grown up in foster care. She'd assured Evelyn that she didn't have one of those horror stories for a childhood; the people she'd grown up with were a nice, older couple who had once been very passionate about foster care, but were just burnt out on it by the time Renee was placed in their care. They were kind and took care of her and her "siblings" and kept them clean and dressed and fed, but they weren't very engaged with her emotionally. They were worn out. Renee knew it wasn't their fault. But because of their distance, she'd grown very close to her foster brothers instead, and she never made a point to go see the older couple or call them.

Being an orphan herself, Evelyn sort of liked having Renee around on holidays. She'd never before had a roommate who stayed with her through Thanksgiving and Christmas, and she liked the company. Jonathan came by, of course, but somehow the holidays felt a little less lonely with the three of them, instead of just Evelyn and her brother. She was less inclined to dwell on the fact that her father and mother were gone.

She glanced at the clock. She would need to be at the library in an hour; she usually started her shift promptly after the end of Dr. Chamberlain's class. With a sigh, she trudged to her closet and began flipping through outfits to wear.

Something was fishy about Renee's...friend.

The thought struck her hard, and made her stop browsing clothes. With a huffing sigh, she put her teacup on the dresser and frowned thoughtfully at her clothes. What was it about him?

Well, besides the fact that he'd supposedly been in Alaska for the past six months, and had nothing to say about it. Evelyn knew people weren't always what they seemed, but he certainly didn't _look_ like the_ Into the Wild_ type.

That _and,_ if they were only friends...or, "siblings," then why share a bed? There were two perfectly good couches in the living room and...well, Evelyn _thought_ Renee had a boyfriend. No, she knew she had one. His name was Rick, and he was in that picture she had by her bed. He worked an oil rig in Texas...or maybe he was a crab fisherman in Maine? He did something that kept him away from her most of the time. Evelyn couldn't imagine that Rick would appreciate Beni in Renee's bed, even if they _were_ "siblings."

But what else? Something else was particularly bothersome about Beni. What was it?

She closed her eyes and re-imagined her meeting with him this morning, and her mind's eye caught sight of his arm as he leaned on the refridgerator door. There was a strange mark, like a pen drawing on his arm, but darker...

Evelyn's eyes snapped open. It was a tattoo. One of those crude, homemade jobs like people got in prison. Her stomach dropped. God, he couldn't be...? Well, he _could_. He certainly seemed more like the type to have spent the last six months in prison. Or more.

Taking a breath, she strode to her door and stuck her head out. She knew it was rude of her, but she simply had to get to the bottom of this.

"Renee? Would you mind giving this outfit your eye?"

Renee nodded, crossing the room to Evelyn's door and slipping inside. Evelyn closed it quickly and took Renee by the arm, pulling her closer as she whispered:

"Your brother wasn't in Alaska, was he?"

Renee sputtered for a moment, and Evelyn shook her head.

"Please, just...be honest with me. I think I'm entitled to the truth about the people who stay in my home."

Renee let out a long sigh, her dark eyes sliding to the floor. "No," she said quietly. "He hasn't been in Alaska. I'm sorry. I lied."

Evelyn watched her steadily, her face unmoved from its urgent calm. "Where has he been?"

Her roommate sighed again, glancing back at the door before returning to Evelyn's gaze with pleading eyes.

"Okay. Please don't freak out," she said. She watched Evelyn visibly brace herself before saying, "He's been in prison."

"Oh, my God!" Evelyn yelped. Renee shushed her, casting suspicious glances at the door. Evelyn quickly lowered her voice, but her eyes remained stern. "Renee, how could you bring him here?"

Renee bit her lip. "I don't know...He didn't have anywhere else..."

Evelyn shook her head. "There's plenty of places he could go. He could get a hotel room."

Renee started to say something, and stopped herself. She sighed loudly, glancing again at the door. "Look, I'll get him out of here."

"Tonight," Evelyn said, staring her down.

Renee sighed, but nodded her head. "Okay."

Evelyn gave her a sad smile. "Thank you." She let out a little sigh, and felt a pang of guilt at the helpless look on Renee's face. "I'm not overreacting," she said, more to herself than to her roommate. But Renee nodded.

"I know. I'm sorry I lied about it."

Evelyn nodded, giving her arm a little squeeze. "I'm sure he's a nice enough person. I'm just...not comfortable having a criminal stay with us."

Renee kind of chuckled. "Actually, he's not that nice. And I'm not really crazy about him staying with us, either."

Evelyn let out a relieved sigh, taking a step back. "Well, I should probably clean up for work."

Renee gave her a smile and slipped out of the door. She met Beni's gaze from the table, and sighed.

"So...do you have any kind of plan, now that you're out?"

His mouth stretched into an ugly grin, and he held up his arm, revealing the tattoo again.

"Let me tell you about the Scarab Society."

Renee's brow furrowed, but she crossed the room and took a seat.


	5. The Same Old Song

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song "It's the Same Old Song" by the Four Tops, which will forever remind me of the movie _Blood Simple_ (which you should totally see, if you haven't). Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**The Same Old Song**

"Alright, so you're gonna have to explain this to me," Rick said as he settled himself in on the passenger side of Ardeth's SUV. The agent started the car and looked at him expectantly. Rick's brow furrowed. "What?"

"Your seatbelt," Ardeth said, buckling his own. Rick stared at him incredulously for a moment before rolling his eyes and doing the same.

_"Anyway,"_ he said, "I'm trying to figure this out. Baltus Hafez was in the Scarab Society, right?"

Ardeth nodded, pulling the car out into the street. "He had the tattoo. Every member is supposed to receive it somewhere on their body, but most of the time, it is the arm."

Rick nodded. "Okay. So Baltus is in the Scarab Society. Lock's in, too. So it makes sense he would want me to 'answer for him,' since they were both members of the same gang."

Ardeth glanced at him seriously. "This is more than a gang."

Rick sighed. "Whatever. They were part of the same...group, society...thing. But you think this Meela woman is a member, too?"

Ardeth shrugged his shoulders. "It is the only plausible explanation for why she murdered Agent Burns."

Rick's eyebrows rose incredulously. "No, see, she could've killed him for a lot of reasons. For all we know, Burns was having an affair with her, and she didn't like that he was getting married."

"That does not sound like Agent Burns," Ardeth said seriously. But Rick was unconvinced.

"Think about it," he said. "Why would Lock want to pay me back for Baltus if it was the Scarab Society that had him killed in the first place?"

Ardeth let out a gruff sigh, taking a turn in the direction of the seedier part of town. He shook his head, though his voice was less confident than before:

"Criminal organizations like the Scarab Society have their own killed all the time."

Rick scoffed. "Yeah, but usually everyone's in on it. Lock was angry about Baltus. It just doesn't make sense - "

Ardeth shook his head, and his voice snapped a little more than he intended it to. "Maybe it was a secret. Something Imhotep played close to the chest. Lock is a low-level nobody, wasting away in prison. He would not be privy to all of Imhotep's decisions."

Rick let out a sigh. Clearly he'd upset the agent, which hadn't been his intention. And even though he wasn't entirely convinced, Ardeth had a point, and he didn't feel like arguing over speculation. They pulled up to the strip club - a dingy, windowless building with a neon sign proclaiming "GIRLS! GIRLS! GIRLS!", turned off at this time of the day. Ardeth sighed loudly as he parked the car, grumbling to himself in what Rick thought sounded like another language.

He followed the agent uncertainly into the building, an eerie feeling hanging over his head. Everything familiar seemed like a worn-out dream. It had been years since he'd set foot in a place like this, a guilty pasttime he used to enjoy. Now he couldn't imagine ever wanting to be here. The whole place looked pathetic in the light of day, and he found himself wishing he'd just waited in the car. He felt almost embarrassed to be there, especially with Ardeth, who couldn't wipe a disgusted grimace off of his face as they stepped inside the empty bar.

A chubby, unsightly man waddled over to greet them.

"Oh, I am so sorry, gentlemen, but we are closed today."

Ardeth raised an eyebrow and pulled out his badge. "Agent Ardeth Bay, FBI. Your door is open."

The man laughed nervously and glanced back towards the entrance. "Oh, I must have forgotten to lock it behind me this morning..."

"Are you aware this is the site of a criminal investigation?" Ardeth demanded.

The man chuckled, jerking a thumb in the direction of a taped-off row of seats.

"How could I not be?" he said.

Ardeth forced a smile. "And your name?"

"Gad," he said, "Hassan. I own this place."

Ardeth nodded, extending his hand. Gad shook it, but seemed uncomfortable at the suspicious way the agent was eyeing his arm. He quickly jerked his hand out of his grasp.

"Is there something I can help you gentlemen with today?"

Ardeth nodded. "Yes. We are looking for a woman, one of your dancers. Meela Nais."

Gad's brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm sorry. Who?"

"Meela Nais," Ardeth repeated patiently. "She goes by the stage-name, 'the Mistress.'"

Gad shook his head. "I am sorry. I don't have a girl by that name."

When Ardeth's eyes remained dark and incredulous, Gad motioned for them to follow him. "Honestly! Come take a look at my books."

They followed him cautiously down a dark hallway, to a cramped little office. Rick wasn't one to miss Ardeth's hand resting on his holster the entire time. But Gad let them in and hurried behind his desk, digging out a binder and a ledger from one of the drawers. The walls of his office were covered in pictures of half-naked (or completely naked) girls, and their images seemed to overwhelm the tiny space, making Rick uncomfortable.

God slid the books across the desk to Ardeth. "Here is my ledger. You will see there is no woman by that name on the payroll."

Ardeth picked it up and began browing the pages, while Gad pointed to the binder.

"And here are my girls. Pictures. Names. Addresses. Anything you need to know."

Ardeth slowly put the ledger down and reached for the binder, flipping thoughtfully through the smiling faces.

"Can you give me the names of the women who were working last night when Agent Burns was killed?"

Gad bobbled his head. "Of course! I'll write them down for you."

"Phone numbers and addresses, please," Ardeth said without glancing up from the book. Rick gazed down over his shoulder at the book. None of the faces were Meela's. Ardeth reached the end of the book and sighed, closing it and handing it back to Gad. "And this is completely up-to-date?"

Gad nodded. "This will probably surprise you, but I am a very good bookkeeper."

Ardeth chuckled quietly. "I do not doubt that, Mr. Hassan."

He straightened, turning to look at Rick briefly. Rick wasn't sure what to do with his expectant eyes, so he shrugged. With a sigh, Ardeth turned his attention back to Gad.

"Thank you, Mr. Hassan. I believe this is all we'll be needing for now."

A yellow grin spread across Gad's face, and he nodded happily, wishing them a good day and walking them out of the building. Rick watched Ardeth carefully as they got back into the car. He sat there for a moment, a thoughtful frown on his face.

"So...what?" Rick finally asked. "Do you think he's lying?"

Ardeth shook his head. "He's telling the truth. Meela Nais is not on his payroll." He reached over and started the car, and then buckled his seatbelt. Rick sighed and did the same. "He's on hers."

Rick's brow furrowed. "What makes you think that?"

"He was so eager to show us the books," Ardeth said simply. "Of course he knows we need a search warrant, but his books are clean and he wanted us to know it."

Rick shook his head. "He could have more books...that might just be the one he shows us and the IRS."

"That's possible," Ardeth allowed. He let out a sigh, glancing at Rick as they slowed in front of a stoplight. "What did your brother know of the Baltus Hafez murder?"

Rick frowned, taken aback by the change of subject. He shrugged. "Um, I don't know. I told him I'd been approached by a woman about carrying out a hit on the guy. And I told him I turned her down."

Ardeth nodded slowly. "And you were never told his name?"

Rick shook his head. "No, just where he lived, and that he had a lot of stolen cocaine. That's why they wanted him killed - well, that's what she told me, anyway."

Ardeth pressed his lips into a little line, just as the light turned green and they started moving again.

"Then how did your brother know it?"

Rick's brow furrowed, and he started to say that Beni hadn't known his name...but then he stopped himself. How _had_ Beni known that the man he'd been asked to kill was Baltus? How had he known that that nameless murder was the man Lock was so hellbent on avenging?

Ardeth slowed the car to a stop, now back at the FBI headquarters. He put it in park, but he made no move to get out of the car. Taking a breath, he turned and looked at Rick patiently.

"Tell me again what happened when Meela approached you."

Rick sighed, thinking back through the events of that evening carefully. And he told Ardeth again. He told him how he and Beni were sitting at the bar of some ritzy club that Beni wanted to try, because he was always after some expensive new thrill. And how the bartender brought him a screwdriver, "compliments of the lady." He glanced down the bar and met a set of cold, black eyes and a tight black dress, and Beni muttered something about Rick having all the luck. She motioned for him to come over, and he did.

She took him away from the crowd, into a dark, quiet hallway. And she said, "I've been hearing interesting things about you, Mr. O'Connell."

"About me? Really?"

She nodded, taking a sip of her drink. "I've heard you're one of the best marksmen in the city, and yet you waste your time with petty theft."

Rick scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not sure where you come from, lady, but around here, bank robbery isn't just petty theft."

She snickered, a cruel but lovely smirk twisting her mouth. "I have a proposition for you. One that will make your biggest robbery look _awfully_ petty."

Rick leaned forward in interest. "Alright. I'm listening."

She smiled and took another sip. "There is a man who has stolen a great deal from my employer. Some things that are very precious to him, and some things that are very valuable to his business. My employer would like him taken care of."

Rick's brow furrowed. "What kind of 'things' are we talking about?"

"Fifty thousand dollars worth of cocaine," she said easily. "Not a lot, in the scheme of things, but enough to upset my employer a great deal. This man's death would be worth at least that to him, as the other items he's stolen are of considerably more value. Are you interested?"

Rick's eyebrows rose. "Forgive me if I'm taking this the wrong way, but your 'employer' sounds like the kind of guy who has plenty of marksmen of his own to handle this."

Her mouth twisted in a little smirk again. "He does. But he'd like an outside person to do it. He does not want word to get around our society."

Rick scoffed. "Maybe he should look for some new guys to work for him, if the ones he has can't keep a secret."

She rose an eyebrow. "Maybe he is."

Rick frowned at her thoughtfully, but she only took another sip. Her eyes flitted down the hall, and then back to him.

"This is a very delicate matter. The man in question is, on the surface, a legitimate businessman. He's the curator at one of the local museums, and has a great deal of prestige in the community. He also lives in Rocky Hollows."

"That gated community on the West End?"

She nodded. "Yes. So you can see why my employer might be seeking a...thief's tact, in handling this problem."

Rick let out a sigh, and shook his head. "Look, I'm sorry, but you've got the wrong guy. I don't kill people for money."

She gave him a polite smile. "I understand, Mr. O'Connell. Enjoy your drink."

They walked together back to the bar, and Rick readily met Beni's greasy grin.

"That must have been the easiest you ever got it."

Rick scoffed. "Unlike some people in this room, I make a point not to cheat on the girl I'm with."

Beni snickered, glancing down the bar at the woman. "So what was it, then?"

Rick shook his head, still a little perplexed. "She wanted me to kill some guy. For money."

Beni sat up in interest, tearing his eyes away from her to look at Rick. "For a lot of money?"

Rick shrugged.

"Are you going to do it?"

He shook his head. "Of course not."

Beni let out a sigh, glancing at the woman again. Rick followed his eyes and watched her pay the tab, and then start across the room. He shook his head. This had to be about the weirdest evening of his life.

"I am going to go take a piss," Beni told him. Rick nodded, and asked the bartender if he could trade the screwdriver for a beer.

Ardeth's thoughtful sigh drew Rick out of his memory. He turned and looked at the other man.

"Your brother left? Right after she did?"

Rick nodded, and then he realized what Ardeth was getting at. His eyes widened.

"You think Beni killed Baltus?"

Ardeth met his gaze persistently. "He left right after you told him about it, while she was still in plain sight."

But Rick could only shake his head. "Beni? Kill somebody? Look, my brother's a lot of things, and above all he's a coward. Not to mention he's about half-retarded with a gun."

Ardeth rose an eyebrow. "Baltus Hafez had his throat slit while he lay sleeping in his bed." He took a breath, "The work of a coward...wouldn't you say?"

Rick felt his body go numb. He sat back in his seat and stared at the dashboard in shock. Ardeth let the realization sink in for a moment before he spoke again, quietly:

"There is something else."

Rick looked up, meeting Ardeth's gaze. The agent let out a sigh.

"When your brother was released from prison, one of the guards noticed a mark on his arm. A tattoo he did not come in with."

Rick sighed, shaking his head. "Let me guess. It was in the shape of a scarab?"

Ardeth nodded slowly. He reached over and put his hand on Rick's arm. "We need you. More than I thought we did."


	6. Everything Still Turns to Gold

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin__. Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**Everything Still Turns to Gold**

"There's someone here to see you."

Meela glanced up from her cocktail and sighed, casting a vaguely apologetic glance to the man seated at her right. Her eyes flitted up to the waitress, and she told her to tell the visitor she'd be with them momentarily. The door closed, and she turned her attention back to the man. He was a tall, severe fellow, and Meela didn't particularly like him. The stiff way he sat always made her extremely uncomfortable. And Meela, who always made a point to look perfectly relaxed, hated the effort it took to keep up appearances when she wasn't relaxed.

"Now, Dr. Chamberlain. Where were we?"

He wouldn't even let her call him by his first name, Terrence. She'd called him that, once, in her smooth voice, and he readily corrected her. It was rare for men to protest anything she did, so his request came as quite a shock. But she'd given him an easy smirk and apologized, and inwardly decided that she disliked him even more than she disliked most people.

"We were on the topic of my...favor," he said carefully. He lifted his scotch to his lips and took a sip.

Meela nodded, and gave him a slight smile. "Oh, yes. Of course."

He watched her with his steady, cold eyes for a moment. "I trust that the matter has been...taken care of?"

Her the corners of her lips lifted briefly, and she gave him a wink. "Of course it has. Surely the news has reached you by now."

Dr. Chamberlain glanced down into his drink. "That's not what I meant. My daughter called me early this morning. I know you've disposed of Mr. Burns. I meant...of course...the matter of its connection to me."

Meela's eyebrows rose. "In what way could it ever be connected to you? He was at a strip club. I shot him while you lay sleeping in your bed. I trust that takes care of the matter to your satisfaction."

His eyes darted about the room nervously. "I should not be here meeting with you."

But Meela only laughed. "Oh, please, Dr. Chamberlain. No one knows I am here. There is no record of me at the club. I am like a ghost."

Dr. Chamberlain breathed a sigh and took another sip of his drink, but he didn't seem entirely convinced. "You'll have to forgive my skepticism. I tend toward the paranoid."

Meela hid a scoff in her drink. She swallowed a sip and then reached into the glass for an olive with her long fingers.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Dr. Chamberlain?"

He met her eyes and held them for a moment. "No, nothing you can do. But something..._he_ might be able to."

She cocked an eyebrow. "You know he will not meet with you."

Dr. Chamberlain leaned forward a little. "But what if it was about Mayor Seti?"

Meela's expression was unchanged, but her pulse quickened.

"John Seti is no concern of Imhotep's," she said easily.

Dr. Chamberlain scoffed. "That's hardly true."

Meela's eyes narrowed. "You should know better than to call me a liar."

He started to say something, but she wasn't in the mood to hear it. Meela rose to her feet and extended her hand.

"I trust we have returned your favor to your satisfaction," she said evenly. He stared back at her a moment, before taking her hand and shaking it. He nodded, rising to his feet as well. "I was beginning to think you would not make good on our offer."

Dr. Chamberlain almost smiled and finished the rest of his drink. "I like to hold onto favors until I truly need them."

She raised her eyebrows. "Six years, though."

He shrugged in his stiff way. "Revealing Dr. Hafez's thievery to Imhotep was a joy. I'm only too happy it's afforded me this opportunity to remove the FBI from becoming an in-law."

Meela nodded, ushering him to the door. They shook hands again and she rolled her eyes at his back, before catching sight of her waiting visitor, leaning against a wall in the hallway. Her eyes narrowed and she breathed an irritated sigh.

"What are you doing here?"

Beni gave her greasy smile. "I am out of prison. Do not pretend you're not happy to see me."

Meela quirked an eyebrow. "Actually, I'd nearly forgotten about you." His smile faded a little. "That is, until I got a call from Lock, saying he took care of the man who killed Baltus." She looked him over with a frown. "Lock usually does better work than this."

Beni scoffed. "He did not beat me up."

"Evidently."

Beni looked past her, to the room. She glanced over her shoulder and sighed.

"Would you like to come in?"

He bobbled his head, and followed her eagerly into her office. Meela had many offices throughout the city, and she preferred most of them to this dark, old-fashioned room over an Irish pub, but she couldn't risk frequenting any of the usual places where her face was familiar right now. She would have much rather been on a plane than within the city limits of Hamunaptra, but Imhotep had asked her to tie up some loose ends before taking off to the Caribbean to lay low for a while.

She hadn't planned on Beni being one of those loose ends, but now that he was here, she figured she may as well get this over with.

He took a seat in one of the expensive leather chairs, looking a little silly and out of place in his beat-up jeans and T-shirt. He eyed her martini on the table hungrily. Meela let out a sigh and tried to maintain her patience.

"You are welcome to make yourself a drink," she said, nodding at a bar just at the other end of the room. He jumped up and began searching through bottles. Meela slipped back into the chair she'd been sitting in earlier and took another sip of her martini. "How did you find me?" Her voice was calm, but inwardly, she was a bit concerned.

His skinny shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. She watched him fill an old-fashioned with Grey Goose and frowned.

"It was easy," he said. "You can get most anything with this." He held up his arm, and she caught a glimpse of his tattoo. Meela raised an eyebrow.

"I know you think that is a golden ticket, but it isn't," she said calmly. "We expect a great deal from you when you take the mark."

Beni snickered as he crossed the room back to his chair. "The Mark of the Beast," he said in an amused tone, more to himself than to her.

Meela sighed. "So what do you want?"

Beni shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "I don't know. I thought I should let you know I am back." He grinned. "And available."

She raised her eyebrows. "I don't have anything for you to do right now, so if you were hoping to make some money fresh out of prison, I am afraid you're out of luck."

His face fell, and he looked up at her with big, pathetic eyes. "But_ Meela..._I joined so that I would have some work. What am I supposed to do? I have no place to stay."

Meela let out an exasperated sigh. "You're a big boy," she said darkly. "Figure something out."

But he just kept looking at her with that annoying, desperate look on his face, and Meela was in no mood to wait him out. She sighed again, standing up.

"You can go see Gad at the Howler. It is a strip club, so you should be quite comfortable. He can come up with something for you."

Beni's mood brightened, and he leaned back happily in his seat, taking another hearty gulp of his drink. Meela glared down at him.

"Now get out. I have a lot to do tonight."

He frowned. "But I have not finished my drink - "

"I don't care," Meela said, her voice on the edge of snapping. He let out a sigh and grumbled something in a language she didn't recognize, tipping back as much of his drink as he could before her patience completely ran out. She crossed the room in calm, even strides, took him by his ear, and dragged him to the door. He protested loudly - mostly in that strange, nasally language he'd been using earlier - and tripped his way behind her. She shoved him out the door and slammed it, taking a breath to regain her composure.

That man was going to drive her insane. It was a good thing she was leaving here at midnight.

Sighing, she slipped back over to her chair and took a final sip of her martini. The room was so quiet now that she could hear the bustling of the restaurant below her feet. She glanced across the room at the bar, and tried to decide if she should make herself another drink or not.

What did Dr. Chamberlain have on Mayor Seti?

The thought nagged in the back of her mind. That annoyed her - almost as much as the fact that Dr. Chamberlain, like so many other people Imhotep did business with, didn't seem to think she was important enough to be privy this confidential information. Didn't they know Imhotep did everything through her, that they kept no secrets? Was it such a great thrill to tell something to Imhotep directly that they had to insult her with the request? No other righthand man in the city had to put up with this sort of nonsense, she was sure of it. She had to deal with all of this nonsense all day because she was a woman.

A woman with impeccable aim.

She remembered the thrill of shooting Agent Burns, but the memory was quickly chased by a sense of anxiety. Killing an FBI agent meant she'd pitted herself against the entire federal government, and that thought was more than a little nervewracking. Imhotep had wanted her to find a disposable nobody to do it, but she'd insisted. She'd had her eye on those agents for months now, coming in and nosing about the place. She would have liked to have shot both of them and the friend they were with, but she wouldn't dare put two life sentences on her own head.

She found herself wishing now that she'd put off the murder, and given it to Beni. He could have rotted away in prison for the rest of his life, and no one would care. He didn't have much use aside from tasks like that. But Meela...Meela was very valuable.

She stood up now, and crossed the room to the bar. She would have that drink after all. She was just deliberating over whether she wanted another gin martini, or if the next one would be better with vodka, when her phone started ringing. The sound made her jump. She forgot all about the drink and hurried across the room, answering it as fast as she could.

"Hello?" she said breathlessly. The voice on the other end chuckled.

"Have you been running a marathon, my dear?"

Meela smiled - her first real smile all evening. "Sometimes it feels like it. Tying up your loose ends."

"Well, I do appreciate it," he said. She could hear a smile in his voice, too.

"I don't mind doing it," she said, lowering herself back into her seat. She heard him take a breath, and there was a brief pause on the other end.

"I am afraid I have some bad news for you."

Meela took a deep breath and steeled her spine. "Oh?"

"I cannot let you leave the country. I'm sorry."

She sighed slowly, trying to keep a rush of adrenaline from numbing her mind. As calmly as she could, she asked, "Why?"

"You remember that project we've been discussing."

Meela's eyes closed. She took a moment to just focus on steadying her breathing. "Yes."

"It's time for it."

She shook her head, and she was grateful he couldn't see the expression on her face. It was certainly weak and pathetic.

"Are you certain?" she asked, her voice trembling.

His tone was confident and commanding. "It is time."

Meela ran her tongue over her lips. "But what about...what about that situation I took care of?"

"I asked you not to do that," he said in a tone she couldn't quite read. "But since you have, you're just going to have to be...cautious."

She found herself nodding, until she realized he couldn't see her. "Alright..."

"Take care of yourself, Meela. I can't afford to lose you."

Meela heard a click, and then the dialtone. She sucked in a little breath, and then stood up and returned to the bar to finish making her drink.


	7. Comfortably Numb

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song "Comfortably Numb" by Pink Floyd__. Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**Comfortably Numb**

"Megan?"

She turned towards the sound of the familiar voice, and forced a small smile. Daniels dismissed himself from the group of agents he was walking with and hurried over to where she sat, just outside the office of her fiance's former chief. She stood up to meet him, and let him gather her in a brief embrace.

"How're you doin', girl?" he asked quietly. She sighed, taking a step back as he released her.

"I'm okay," she said with a stiff shrug. She chuckled humorlessly. "I've been better."

Daniels glanced down, his head inclining in a knowing nod. "I'm so sorry this happened."

Megan sighed. "It was part of the job. He knew that. I knew that."

But Daniels could only shake his head. He sucked in a breath through his nose that sounded like a sniffle, and stared down the hallway.

"It was my fault. We shouldn'ta even been there."

Megan's heart tightened, and she reached over and put a hand on his arm. "Dave, no...They targeted Bernard. They planned on doing it. Whether you'd been there that night, or a night you were working - it still would have happened."

"But I could've shot the bitch if we'd been working," he muttered bitterly. "She'd be dead or in custody, instead of this..._bullshit_ with trying to find her..."

Megan shook her head. She felt weary, assuaging his guilt when she had her own to contend with. But Daniels was clearly hurting, and being something of a man's man, she doubted he'd said any of this to anyone.

"You'll get her," she said as confidently as she could. "I know you will."

Daniels started to respond to her, but the door opened and Ardeth Bay stuck his head out. She gave Daniels another smile and squeezed his arm before stepping into the office.

She'd met Ardeth only once before, very briefly. Bernard had never been the type to rub elbows with his superiors, and Megan had always gotten the impression that he was a little intimidated, if not scared, of Ardeth. It was one of many traits her father found unsatisfactory in her fiance. He bemoaned Bernard's passive lack of ambition; he thought he was positively simple, content to trot along after others and do as he was told. But Megan had liked being with someone who was so sweet and easygoing...at least, at first.

"Miss Chamberlain. Please have a seat."

She gave him a polite smile and sat down. He slipped around to the other side of his desk and took a seat. He leaned forward, his hands folded on the desk.

"Thank you for coming in to meet with me," he said gently. "I know you're a busy woman."

Megan sighed, and kind of chuckled. "Well, I've been less busy lately. I kind of cleared my schedule...for the wedding..."

Ardeth glanced at his hands. "Oh. Of course."

She ran her tongue over her lips, shifting her weight uncomfortably. He looked so awkwardly unsure of what to say. And God, she was so tired of people not knowing what to say to her. It had only been a couple days, and then she had to endure the funeral tomorrow...but she was so tired of it. Already.

"Listen," he said slowly. "I know this will not sound sincere, but I do know what you are going through. I lost my wife three years ago."

Megan felt a pang deep in her heart. She reached over and touched his hand. "I'm so sorry."

"She was killed by a drunk driver," he said, his eyes staring steadily at her hand over his. His brow furrowed, and then he nodded knowingly. "You aren't wearing your ring."

Megan quickly retracted her hand, fiddling with her ring finger nervously. But when she met his eyes, they were kind and comforting.

"I don't wear mine, either," he said, holding up his hand. "I have found that...the few people willing to ask for a number are much easier to contend with than the many, many more who will make small talk asking how long you've been married and if you have any children."

Megan glanced down. "A woman in the elevator asked me if I had my wedding dress yet...so I took it off."

Ardeth gave her a sad smile. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," she said.

"I cannot imagine how difficult this must be for you, losing your fiance right before your wedding."

His voice was so very sincere and emotional and honest that she couldn't handle it. She could handle the false sympathy - the lukewarm offers, the ambiguous "I'm here if you need me"'s - she could handle them with equally forced gratefulness and half-hugs. But she couldn't take his honest pity. She couldn't take his _knowing,_ honest sympathy. He was making her feel like a sham, and he wasn't even meaning to. And before she could stop herself, something in her chest burst and she started crying.

The tears slid silently down her face as she kept her sobs trapped in her throat for as long as she could. And then she gasped, searching for the nerve to meet his eyes again. She heard something slide across the desk, and glanced up to see a box of tissues. She gave him a grateful look and dabbed the tears away, hoping her mascara wasn't a mess.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

But he was shaking his head. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"No," she said, her voice steeling a little in her throat. "You don't understand..."

She could feel his eyes soften with pain, and the look in them made her want to cry all over again. "Please...forgive me. I did not mean to upset you by telling you about my wife - "

_"No,"_ she said again, even more definitively. "Please...it's not that..."

Megan took a deep breath, and before she could stop herself, she confessed everything to his warm, dark eyes:

"I didn't love him," she said. "Not anymore. I was going to break it off. I realized I couldn't marry him and I was going to tell him so. But now he's dead. And I can't tell anyone...I can't tell anyone it was over. I was so tired of pretending I was in love with him, and now it's all I do. I'd look so terrible and heartless if I didn't..."

She stared into his eyes, watching for the moment when they would harden with judgment against her. But they remained so pure and sympathetic, and when she breathed a heavy sigh, she felt as if she'd lost an enormous weight. For the first time in the last few days, she genuinely smiled, but she felt so silly doing so that she quickly hid it in the midst of a nervous chuckle.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't think you invited me here for all of that."

Now he smiled. "Miss Chamberlain, had I known, I would have invited you here much sooner."

"Please," she said, "call me Megan."

Something in his eyes lit a little, and he nodded. A strange silence fell between them, and Ardeth let out a sigh.

"Well, I had asked you here so that I could tell you how important Agent Burns was to us, and how much he will be missed."

Megan thought about the sort of man Bernard was - how he was sweet and kind but always expendable - but she kept her mouth closed. She'd already admitted to not loving him. There was no point in dragging out his faults, too.

"That's very kind of you," she said. "He was a good man."

Ardeth nodded. He glanced down and cleared his throat before meeting her eyes again. "I also wanted to...apologize. I am afraid I cannot make it to the funeral tomorrow. I have prior engagements."

"I understand," she said, rising to her feet. She extended her hand, and he shook it. "It was very nice to speak with you."

Ardeth smiled warmly, rising to his feet as well. "Yes. I'm sorry we're only now getting the opportunity to talk."

Megan glanced down, hiding a smile. Her eyes flitted back up at him, and she shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe this won't be our meeting."

He nodded, taking her gently by the elbow and escorting her to the door. "I hope it isn't."

As Megan left his office, she felt suddenly much lighter. He hadn't said it, but the genuine way he looked at her had given her a glimmer of hope. Bernard Burns had been a very nice man and she was sorry he was dead, but perhaps she shouldn't feel so guilty over not loving him. She couldn't help that.

Saying those words had been so liberating. As she walked, her back straightened, and she found herself smiling at people. She would brave the funeral tomorrow, and soon this would all be over. The guilt had dulled to a strange lack of feeling, and she breathed easier.


	8. Not One of Those Who Can Easily Hide

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song "Your Song" by Elton John__. Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**Not One of Those Who Can Easily Hide**

Evelyn had just finished the last of her leftover Chinese food and was settling into her favorite spot on the couch, content to ignore the dishes for the time being. She had a steaming cup of chamomile tea and her reading glasses perched on her nose, and she was ready to enjoy the rest of her evening alone with a good nonfiction book about a little-known pharaoh.

She'd just begun reading when she heard a knock at the door. She frowned and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was certainly much too early for Jonathan to come knocking, especially on a weeknight. Besides him, she rarely got visitors. Her stomach turned as it occurred to her that it could be Beni, stopping by to visit Renee. He hadn't come to the apartment since he'd left around a week ago, but Evelyn had been dreading the day that he did come back, because he certainly would. He and Renee _were_ family, more or less, and she knew he'd be back sooner or later...

Evelyn seriously considered ignoring the knock, but she'd feel dreadful if Jonathan had locked his cell phone and keys in his office again, and he'd walked all this way for a place to sleep tonight. With a sigh, she shouted that she was coming and pulled herself from the comfort of the couch. She peered through the peephole in her door, and didn't recognize the distorted face staring back at her.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Rick," the man returned, a little uncertainly. "O'Connell. I'm a, uh, friend of Destiny's. I thought this was her apartment...Does she live here?"

Evelyn was thrown a little offguard at hearing her roommate's first name, but quickly remembered it from the stack of junkmail addressed to Renee. His name was suddenly familiar, too.

She unlocked the door and let him in. He stood just inside their apartment, shifting his weight.

"I'm sorry, Re - Destiny isn't here at the moment. She's working."

Rick looked a little different from that picture Renee had at her bedside. In the picture, he'd looked boyish and carefree - his hair a little long, his smile a little goofy. But the person standing in her doorway was very much a man, with broad shoulders and deep eyes and something about him that seemed worn into the world. She found herself staring into the blue-green depths of his gaze and blushed with embarrassment, her eyes quickly retrieving to the clock.

"She does twelve-hour shifts at the hospital. She's usually not much later than 7:30 or 8:00."

Rick nodded, eyeing the clock thoughtfully. And despite the fact that she didn't know the man at all, Evelyn couldn't seem to keep the words from tumbling out:

"You're welcome to sit and wait for her a moment."

He let out a sigh, a look of uncertainty passing over his face before finally shrugging. "I guess I can wait for a minute."

Evelyn forced herself not to smile too widely. What was the matter with her? She was acting positively silly...over Renee's boyfriend! _Though_, her stomach twisted just a little as she remembered Beni staying the night in her roommate's bed, _perhaps he won't be her boyfriend for very long... _She quickly shook that thought away, chiding herself. God, she'd only just met the man and she was already hoping he'd break up with Renee?

"My name is Evelyn, by the way," she said, realizing an awkward silence had grown in the time after he took a stiff seat on the couch. "Can I get you anything?"

Rick shook his head. "Nah, I'm okay."

Evelyn nodded, hurrying back to her spot on the couch. "You're welcome to watch some TV if you like."

He eyed her cup of tea and book and rose his eyebrows. "Are you sure it wouldn't bother you?"

She shook her head. "Oh, no. Go right ahead."

Rick reached for the remote control on the coffee table and clicked on the television. She watched as he flipped through a few channels, finally landing on a baseball game. He sighed.

"So...uh...you're Destiny's roommate, huh?"

Evelyn nodded. "Yes. We've been bunking together for almost a year now."

His brow furrowed, and he turned to look at her. "Are you from...England or something?"

She glanced at her hands. "No - well, sort of. My father was from England, but my brother and I were born here. We spent a lot of time in London growing up. I suppose I have the accent. There's really no losing it."

"You shouldn't try to lose it," he told her, his eyes wandering back to the television screen. "It's cute."

Evelyn blushed, biting back a smile. Her heart beat a little faster at the compliment, but she quickly shoved it aside. After all, he was Renee's boyfriend, and he probably didn't mean that he thought_ she_ was cute, just that -

"So what's she do at the hospital?" he asked. "She's not a nurse already, is she?"

Evelyn shook her head. "Oh, no. She has another year left before that. She's a, uh...tech, I believe. That's what she calls it. She helps out the nurses, you know. Taking blood pressure and...well, honestly, it sounds like a lot of disaster clean-up to me. I'm glad there are people like her who have the stomach for it. I know I certainly couldn't collect urine samples and the like."

Rick kind of chuckled. "Me either."

She leaned towards him a little. "So what do you do?"

He suddenly became very uncomfortable and started to sputter something about being out of work at the moment. Evelyn looked down quickly. Before she could come up with an apology, he was changing the subject:

"So do you go to school with Destiny?"

"Umm...sort of. I started college when I graduated high school, so I'm finished with my undergrad. I'm working on my Master's now. But we do attend the same college. Just different programs."

Rick raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Wow, your Master's, huh?"

Evelyn nodded. "I'd like to go straight through to my doctorate, but we'll see."

"What are you studying?"

She took a little breath. It was rare for men - or anyone, really - to take such an interest in her studies. Back when she first started college, it seemed there were always boys asking about her classes, when really their only interest was getting her alone. But the further she'd gone into school, the less boys there were, feigning interest in the hopes of taking her to bed. She was so focused and intent that she'd barely noticed, but now...now it was nice to be asked about herself. Especially by someone as handsome as Rick O'Connell.

"Egyptology," she said. His eyebrows rose for a moment, before quickly furrowing in confusion.

"So...what's that?" he asked, with a nervous chuckle.

Evelyn smiled sheepishly. "It's the study of ancient Egypt."

"Ah," he said. "So, like...mummies and stuff."

She giggled. "Yes. Mummies and stuff."

"That's neat," he said, and even though he hadn't even known what it was a moment ago, he sounded as if he genuinely thought so. Evelyn smiled, glancing up into his eyes. And then, inexplicably, they were staring at one another. She felt like she was falling into his gaze, her heart racing at the expression in them, at the set of his mouth. Did he think she was pretty? Did he really think she was so interesting? For the first time since she was a silly, naive freshman, she found herself hoping that he did...

And then he looked down, and cleared his throat. Evelyn breathed a sigh, glancing quickly away as well.

"I should probably go," he said finally. She wanted to ask him to stay, but she couldn't come up with a plausible reason why he should remain there with her. She glanced up and gave him a polite smile.

"Alright," she said. "I'll tell Re - Destiny you stopped by."

Rick nodded, and she got up and walked him to the door. She wished him a good night, and he did the same, but he deliberated at the door. Evelyn bit her lip, hoping against hope that he might change his mind and stay a little longer.

"I'll, uh, I'll probably be coming by again soon," he said. "So maybe I'll see you later?"

Evelyn smiled. "I hope so."

He started to smile, but quickly looked down and nodded. She wished him a good night again, and reluctantly closed the door as he headed down the hallway. Breathing a sigh, she turned the lock and stood there, staring at the floor as her heart raced in her chest. She felt so utterly ridiculous. She must have seemed like a foolish schoolgirl to him...

Her mind traced back through their conversation as she meandered back to the couch and sat down, scrutinizing her behavior much harsher than she needed to. She winced at herself a couple times - he must have thought she was completely empty-headed! But, no. She remembered the look on his face when she'd told him about her Master's. He was impressed. He was genuinely impressed. And, well, obviously he had to think she was at least a little bit smart, working towards her Master's and doctorate and all -

Evelyn shook her head, scolding herself for thinking about their conversation at all. It was nothing. And he probably thought it was nothing. Just mindless small-talk with Renee's roommate. Nothing more. He was so handsome and easy-natured, he probably chatted like that all the time, with anybody. She only thought it was something special because she spent all of her time reading and studying dead empires...

Suddenly she remembered the look in his eyes as they'd stared at one another in silence. What had that been? She knew she hadn't imagined it. It had happened, and it had certainly happened just as much to him as to her. She wasn't sure what it was, or what it meant...but she couldn't talk herself down into believing he'd thought _nothing_ of her.

And then he'd made a point to tell her he'd be back, and -

The sound of the key in the lock made her jump and let out a little cry. Evelyn sat up, watching as the door creaked open and Renee trudged in, dressed in her scrubs. Her light brown hair was pulled up in a limp ponytail, and her face looked pitiful.

"Oh, Renee!" she said, jumping to her feet. "You look positively green about the gills."

Her roommate rubbed her face, nodding. "I've just felt awful all day, I don't know. Just...weak and achy and tired. And then I was taking a patient's dirty dinner tray out of the room, and...I don't know if it was the smell of the vinegar on the salad or what, but I had to run to the bathroom. So the charge nurse sent me home."

Evelyn gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry you're not feeling well."

Renee nodded, letting out a yawn. Her eyes strayed to the television, and she frowned in confusion. "Are you watching sports?"

"Oh, um - You just missed your friend Rick," Evelyn said quickly. A strange expression passed over Renee's face, but she seemed too tired and ill to think much about it. "He said he would be coming back by soon."

Renee nodded again, dragging her feet towards the bathroom. "Okay. I think I'm just going to take a shower and go to bed."

Evelyn smiled empathetically, and told her she was going to sit out here a moment and read. Renee grumbled something about that being fine and slipped into the bathroom. Once the door closed, Evelyn let out a sigh.

She couldn't indulge a crush, no matter how small, on Rick O'Connell. Somehow she felt even more guilty over it with Renee wretching in the toilet.


	9. A Little Silhouetto of a Man

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen__. Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**A Little Silhouetto of a Man**

Beni peered around the doorframe and glanced into the wide, open bar and stage area of the strip club. When Meela had sent him here, she'd failed to mention that the whole place was crawling with FBI agents and closed due to their investigation, so the Howler was not at all what he'd hoped it would be. No strippers, no pockets to pick, and the only liquor he could manage to get his hands on required a lot of begging from the club's greasy owner, Gad Hassan. The only good thing he had to say about the Howler was that he could have a cigarette in peace, which had apparently become a priceless luxury in the last five years. He'd actually been kicked out of a pub and grill for lighting up a cigarette. A_ pub_ and grill! Which wasn't even to mention the fact that the price of a pack of cigarettes _had_ to have tripled. Wasn't this America? Why was it he was freer to enjoy a smoke in prison than on the outside?

He breathed a sigh and crept back down the hallway towards Gad's office. Until they were up and running, Gad had nothing for him to do and he didn't seem particularly thrilled to have him hanging around. But Beni was bored and the only other place he could go was Destiny's, and he hated Destiny's uptight roommate. He'd been sleeping in the dancers' dressing room for the past week, which he knew he couldn't put up with forever, but it was working for now, until he had a little money. What was wrong with Destiny, anyway? Getting a roommate. She couldn't just wait til he and Rick were out of prison? Then he could at least be staying some place with a decent shower.

Beni let out another whiny sigh and opened the door to Gad's office, trudging in and dropping to a seat on the old, stained loveseat shoved haphazardly against the wall. Gad gave him a distasteful look before returning his gaze to the newspaper.

"Are they out of here yet?"

Beni shook his head, reaching into his pocket for his pack of cigarette. Gad groaned.

"They said they would be out of here by noon."

Beni sighed, shooting him a look. "Well what do you want me to do about it?" he whined.

Gad scoffed. "Oh, like you could do anything anyway."

Beni rolled his eyes and lit his cigarette. "So what is the deal with this place? Why are they even here?"

Gad stared at him. "I already told you about the agent being killed - "

"No, not that," Beni said, irritated. What did he think he was, stupid? "I mean, why were they ever here?"

Gad shrugged, flipping the page of the newspaper and scanning it absentmindedly. "I don't know. The FBI is obsessed with us right now. But why here? I don't know. I think because this is one of the few places they know about."

Beni nodded slowly. He was fairly new to this whole Scarab Society thing, and to the group mentality of a society in general. It had always been just him and Rick, and the only reason his "group" contained_ that_ many people was because Beni always felt better having someone else to take the fall, if need be. But now he was a part of a multi-million dollar criminal empire that kept many more members and many more opportunities. He figured now he was less a part of a group than he was with Rick. In the Scarab Society, he'd be changing partners and jobs and never owe anybody anything, except Imhotep. If he skimmed off the top, it was sure to go virtually unnoticed.

"And you want me to sell drugs, when we open back up again?"

Gad's eyes widened, and he leaned forward angrily, his chubby hand cupped around his ear. "Oh, what was that? I don't think_ the agents_ heard you!"

Beni was just close enough for him to lean over and pop him upside the head. Beni's eyes narrowed, and he jumped to his feet, his hands balled into fists. But Gad just leaned back in his chair and scoffed.

"Ohh, big man! Are you going to hit me back now?" They stared grimly at each other a moment before Gad started snickering. "Of course not. I can imagine what _you_ were doing in prison. Picked up a lot of soap, did you?"

Beni lunged towards the desk, but Gad yanked a handgun from a drawer and set his aim precisely on the small, weaselly man. Beni paused, but only for a second. He gave Gad a slimy smile as he leaned on the desk and leered over him.

"Oh, you are going to shoot me now? With the agents in the other room?"

Gad's expression soured, but his aim didn't waver. Beni straightened again and took a drag of his cigarette, glaring steadily into the other man's eyes until he reluctantly put his gun back in the desk drawer.

"I know about you," Gad said quietly, his glare unwavering. "You sold your own brother to Lock to get in."

Beni raised an eyebrow, his heart starting to thud in his chest with paranoia. "He was my foster brother, and he was an ass. How do you know about that?"

Gad's shoulders rose and fell mysteriously. "Everybody knows. Just like everybody knows you killed Baltus Hafez."

Beni swallowed uneasily, but quickly crossed his arms over his chest and assumed nonchalance. "That is a lie. My brother killed him."

"Everybody knows," Gad said again. "And when Lock gets out of prison, he will come looking for you."

Beni forced a scoff, though his hand trembled a little as he took another breath of cigarette smoke. Somehow, it wasn't doing a very good job of calming his nerves.

"Why does he care so much about Baltus, anyway?" Beni asked, his tone a little bitter.

Gad snickered, leaning back in his chair with a smug, satisfied smile. "Oh, didn't you know?"

Beni's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, waiting for the slimy bastard to finish enjoying his upperhand and reveal the great secret he was lording over his head.

"Baltus adopted Lock. He was a father to him."

Beni scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Oh, I am sure he was a_ real_ convincing father, since they look _so much_ alike."

Gad raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "You know, it would not kill you to develop a sense of family loyalty yourself."

Beni stared at him incredulously. "What is that, advice?"

The other man only shrugged again. "People know they can trust a man with a family." His face twisted in a smirk. "But you sold your own brother to Lock..."

"Oh,_ you_ have a family?"

Gad's eyes narrowed with insult. "Of course I do. I have a wife and four children, you stupid bastard. Only complete assholes don't have families."

Beni frowned, his mind too occupied to waste time being insulted. "Families are a...what is the word? A liability. Someone could take everything you have and you would let them, just so they would not hurt your wife and children. It is better to have nothing to lose."

Gad's eyebrows rose, and he looked Beni over in severe thoughtfulness.

"Oh...so you think you have nothing to lose, eh?" Gad snickered, pulling a cigar from his drawer and clutching it between his teeth as he struck a match and lit it. "I will remember that when Lock comes around wanting to chop off your balls."

Beni grimaced a little, and he indulged the need to sit back down on the couch. He breathed a shaking sigh and finished his cigarette, reaching quickly for a fresh one.

"But then again," Gad said easily, "maybe Meela will decide you are useful and hold him off. He's her dog, after all."

Beni glanced up at the other man desperately. "How will I do that?"

Gad's face broke into a yellow grin. "Well, you could start by making yourself useful to me."

Beni bobbled his head eagerly. "Yes, alright. What do you need me to do?"

There was something cruel in the other man's eyes that made Beni uneasy.

"You can start by scrubbing the bathrooms. Then when the agents leave, you can move on to the blood on the stage."

Beni's expression soured considerably, and he muttered some choice curses in Hungarian as he wandered out of the office in search of a bucket and mop. Cleaning toilets? If he wanted to work a shit job for nothing, he would have gone off and become a janitor a long time ago.

He looked over his shoulder at the door to the office and glared. If Gad thought he could scare him into playing his maid, he had another thing coming. Angrily, he spit on the floor and hurried out of the club through the back entrance. He could be very valuable to Meela - that much he knew. He had killed Baltus Hafez, after all. And he was a very good thief.

He'd taken Gad's car keys off of the desk without him noticing, after all.

Smirking happily to himself, Beni walked over to Gad's beat-up truck and slipped inside. He would find Meela, and he would make her give him a job. A _real_ job. If what Gad was saying about Lock was true, he would certainly be getting nowhere mopping toilets.

Oh, no. He could do much bigger things than that.


	10. The Nature of My Game

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song "Sympathy for the Devil" by The Rolling Stones__. Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**The Nature of My Game  
or, _Pleased to Meet You; Can You Guess My Name?_**

Meela took a deep breath, glancing between the image of herself, so much younger, on the old driver's license and her face in the mirror. That license - and the name on it - had expired years ago. A lifetime ago. She thought she had destroyed the girl in the picture, left her for dead in the crevices of her mind. And Imhotep had promised, had sworn to her, that she'd never have to be that girl again. Annika Namun was supposed to remain just another name on a missing persons list...

Until Imhotep got an idea.

He wanted revenge on Seti, and Meela couldn't deny that she wanted it, as well. But this way of going about it made her physically ill. She'd pushed away the memories of his uninvited touches and chilling smilings, pushed them as far from her as she could possibly manage. And then she became strong. She hated Annika Namun. She hated her naivety and her helplessness and her pathetic idealism. Annika had never had the strength to tell him she didn't want him. She'd never had the will to tell him to stop. She was scared and stupid and had the audacity to believe in John Seti. To believe he was a man who was going to change things. She'd worked hard on his campaign, volunteering countless hours, because she believed in him. And he'd taken advantage of that, the way older, intelligent, charismatic men do.

She wasn't attracted to him. She hadn't wanted him to touch her. But she was frightened and young and assumed that there was something wrong with _her _for not wanting him. So she kept her mouth shut and let him pretend that she did.

Stupid,_ stupid_ Annika Namun.

Meela detested her, and she was thankful every day that she wasn't her anymore. And she knew that posing as her was _not_ the same thing as being her, except...

Except...

Except that she wasn't so sure that underneath the cool, dark, chrome exterior of Meela, she _wasn't_ still Annika after all. She was afraid that in the depths of her soul, she hadn't changed. That Annika still lived, hiding in the dark like a hostage, waiting for the day when the shell cracked and she might escape. And she was worried that John Seti and his hands and the memory of her helplessness would set her free, leaving Meela a shattered vessel - empty and hollow and useless.

She didn't want to be Annika. But what if she couldn't stop it? What if it happened anyway?

Meela sucked in a deep breath, realizing in her nervousness and fear that she already_ was_ Annika. Meela would not be afraid of this task. Meela could seduce John Seti, pretending to be the demure girl he'd controlled and taken advantage of years ago. But she wasn't feeling the way Meela would. She was frightened and anxious and wished she had told Imhotep she couldn't do it. She wished she had told him that they should find another plan. But it was too late for that now.

Her shoulders straightened, and she held her head a little higher. She met herself in the eye and glared into her reflection with harsh resolve.

"You can do this," she whispered. She repeated the words over and over, her lips forming them silently. She'd say it until she believed it. Until she knew she could step out with confidence, and meet John Seti in the eye, and smile for him, and...undress...for him...

A cold feeling dropped into the pit of her stomach. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to choke back the nausea, her mind going blank until that sick feeling subsided. She gritted her teeth and glanced up at herself again.

"You _can_ do this," she said again. But the nausea remained.

A knock on the door broke her out of her thoughts. Her eyes flitted across the room, and she frowned curiously. She hadn't been expecting anyone...

With a sigh, she crossed the hotel room and opened the door. She was both startled and annoyed to see Beni's slight form lurking there, glancing back and forth down both sides of the hallway as if he'd been chased.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "How do you keep finding me?"

Beni scoffed. "You are not so hard to find."

Meela rolled her eyes, following his nervous glance down the hall. "Did someone follow you?"

He shook his head, pushing past her into the room. She watched in disbelief as he closed the door for her and leaned against it.

"Did I invite you in?" she asked sharply. But he wasn't paying any attention to her.

"Lock is not here, is he?"

Meela's brow furrowed. "What? Of course not. He's in prison."

Beni breathed a sigh of relief and crossed the room, dropping to a seat on the bed. Her nose wrinkled.

"Don't sit there. I don't know where you've been."

He shot her a look and reluctantly stood up again.

"Listen," he said in a whiny voice, "You cannot make me stay at Gad's..."

Meela breathed an irritated sigh and rolled her eyes. "I can make you do whatever I like. I sent you there to get rid of you." She scoffed, looking him over. "A lot of good that's done."

Beni crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the floor. "You're just keeping me around until Lock gets out of prison, and then you'll let him kill me."

Meela quirked an eyebrow. "Why would Lock want to kill you?"

"Oh, as if you don't know," he said bitterly.

She let out a sigh. "I really don't have time for this."

But Beni wasn't budging. He gave her his most desperate look. "You cannot let him kill me! You are the ones who wanted Baltus dead, not me. It is not fair."

Meela scoffed. "You thought it was perfectly fair when I gave you fifty thousand dollars in cash."

He let out a long, whiny groan. _"Meela_...Isn't there something I can do so that you will keep him off my back?"

She started to snap that there wasn't, but she was suddenly struck speechless. Beni was frowning at the table under the mirror, and before she could tell him to stop, he'd crossed the room and picked up her old driver's license. He stared at it in surprise.

"Is this you?"

Meela quickly snatched it out of his hand. "I think it's time you left - "

"Your name is not Meela?" he said, trying to snoop another glance at the license. She shot him a glare and stepped away from him.

"This has to do with a job for Imhotep," she said coldly. "It is none of your business."

His face lit up at the word "job," and his eyes became very big and pitiful. "Let me help you."

Meela gave him an incredulous look. "You don't even know what it is."

Beni shrugged. "I will kill or rob anybody."

She let out a little scoff. "That's comforting."

"Oh," Beni said irritably. "And I suppose you would trust me more if I was a family man like Gad?"

Meela frowned in confusion. "I don't even know what that is supposed to mean."

"What is the job?" His tone was on the brink of begging, and it grated on her nerves.

She stared at him a long moment, an idea nagging persistently in the back of her mind. Before she could really think it through, she let out an exasperated sigh and said, "Take off your clothes."

He looked surprised, but his face quickly spread into a slimy grin. "Okay."

Meela rolled her eyes. "Don't look so pleased. I only want to see if you're wearing a wire."

Beni frowned and stopped unbuttoning his jeans. "You do not trust me?"

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes again and took a deep breath. She glared at him steadily until he'd taken off everything but his underwear and a jingling collection of religious necklaces. He was even skinnier and more desperate-looking without his clothes on, and she supposed she understood his paranoid fear of Lock.

Meela let out a sigh, glancing away from him. "You can get dressed."

"So what is this all about?" he asked, his clothes rustling as he slipped them back on. "Or are you not going to tell me?"

She took a breath sharply. "Do you think my concerns about a wire were a clever ploy to get you undressed? Of course I am going to tell you."

Meela found herself feeling very uneasy, despite her controlled tone. Never before had she planned anything Imhotep wasn't aware of. Never before had she decided to venture off on her own and forego his plan. A chill slithered down her spine, as if he was lurking in the corner and listening in, but she quickly shook the feeling and met Beni's eyes.

"There is a man Imhotep wants me to kill. He wants me to form a relationship with him and slowly poison him."

Beni shrugged. "So?"

She sighed. "So...I know this man, and I cannot be in that kind of relationship with him."

Beni snickered, looking her up and down. "Ohh. That kind of relationship."

Meela's eyes narrowed, but she chose not to respond to that. "I would like you to kill him instead."

His eyebrows rose, and then furrowed in confusion. "I don't understand. You want me to go against Imhotep's plan?" He eyed her suspiciously. "You really are trying to get me killed, aren't you?"

She shook her head, holding his gaze steadily. "No. I am going to go along with Imhotep's plan. This must look like an accident, a strange tragedy that is no one's fault."

Beni shifted his weight uncertainly. "I don't know...What if Imhotep finds out it was me?"

Meela shrugged. "He just wants the man dead. In the end, it will not matter to him how it happened."

"Then why don't you run this new plan by him first?"

She let out a sigh, doing her best to cling to her last shreds of patience. "If you do this for me, I will take care of Lock. And I will make certain Imhotep never knows of this."

Beni fidgeted a little, his face set thoughtfully. "What do you mean, you will take care of Lock?"

Meela's eyes were cool. "I'll have him killed. I can have it done while he is still in prison. It is easier that way, actually."

But his suspicious expression was hardly moved. "And what else?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What else?"

He scoffed. "You do not think I would do something like this without a real payment."

Meela clenched her hands into fists at her sides and let out a sigh. "I will find a permanent job for you. Something that will bring in money for a long time."

Beni nodded slowly, a grim smile spreading across his face as his body relaxed a little. "Who is the man?"


	11. I Want You So Bad

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song "She's So Heavy" by the Beatles (kind of a travesty it's taken 11 chapters to do a Beatles song)__. Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**I Want You So Bad**

Ardeth straightened his tie and looked himself over in the mirror, a little unsure what to do about his hair. He'd been informed this was a formal event, but he didn't own a tuxedo, and he wasn't sure what the difference was, anyway. Keisha could have told him, with a quiet smile on her face and amusement lighting up her chocolate-colored eyes. He glanced down at the little porcelain plate that held the little bit of jewelry he had; a plate Keisha had picked out on their honeymoon in Paris, and had set on the vanity to hold their jewelry. Well, his jewelry, and the things she wore every day. Keisha had loved jewelry. She said she couldn't help it. She wasn't materialistic and she never begged him to buy her an expensive, sparkly anything, but she simply couldn't pass up the opportunity to stroll through a jewelry store when she saw one. So he'd go back to the stores later and purchase something that had caught her eye, for her birthday, for Valentine's Day, for their anniversary, just because...She loved getting jewelry.

And now, in the closet, he had stacks of boxes filled with carefully wrapped pearl necklaces and sapphire bracelets and gold hoops. He didn't know what to do with them. They were Keisha's. A part of him wanted to give them to her mother and sisters; surely they would enjoy the opportunity to don the expensive glittering baubles. But when he thought about going over to the home of his mother-in-law and catching a glimpse of one of the girls wearing Keisha's pink pearl studs, he simply couldn't stand it. He knew the pieces. He knew every one. And he hurt at the thought of someone else wearing her things. So he kept them hidden away and pretended not to think about them.

But in the plate...in the plate was his white gold wedding band and her platinum bridal set, a breathtaking emerald-cut diamond in four carats, flanked on either side by sparkling diamond eternity bands. Her friends had joked that she'd sink the ship when they took what she called a "babymoon" cruise to the Caribbean...

Ardeth hadn't told Megan that his wife was seven months pregnant when she was killed.

He didn't want her to feel as if he was demeaning her tragedy. A loss was a loss, and it wouldn't have been fair of him to tell her he'd lost his wife_ and_ his child that day, as if she needed to be experiencing anyone's grief but her own. Of course, then she had told him that what she was going through was quite different. Instead of losing someone she was ready to spend her life with, she'd lost someone she was about to send away.

Ardeth's thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell, and he hurried out of the room and down the stairs to his foyer. He could make out Rick O'Connell's face through the fogged glass in the door, and quickly opened it.

"Thank you for coming," he said. "Did you have any trouble finding the house?"

Rick shook his head, looking him over in surprise. "You're all...dolled up."

Ardeth let out a groan. "The mayor is hosting a gala for us and the police department and the fire department..."

"Huh. That's nice," Rick said awkwardly.

"I hate these things."

Rick chuckled. "So why'd you want me to over? I hope it wasn't to ask me to be your date." He motioned at his faded jeans, black T-shirt, and leather jacket. "'Cause I'm not really dressed for it."

Ardeth shook his head. "No, I just wanted to speak with you briefly before I had to go."

Rick nodded, folding his arms over his chest and listening carefully.

"The investigation into Agent Burns' murder keeps reaching dead ends," he said. "No one is willing to cooperate. Every person Agent Daniels has interviewed said they did not get a good look at the killer. Surprisingly, most of the girls who work at that club have clean records. We've found a few who have had trouble with drugs in the past, but they have been impossible to track down. The only one Daniels has come across apparently committed suicide."

Rick rose an eyebrow. "Interesting."

Ardeth nodded. "That's what I thought. I am letting Daniels exhaust this trail, but in all honesty, I believe we need to take a different route to catch Meela. And I think the first step in that route is finding your brother."

Rick nodded slowly, mulling this over for a moment. "You think my brother has seen her?"

Ardeth shrugged. "Besides Lock, who is still in prison, Meela is his only known connection to the Scarab Society. It's worth a shot."

Rick nodded again, staring steadily at his shoes for a moment. A strange look past over his face as he glanced up and met the agent's dark, determined eyes.

"Why are you trusting me with this?" he asked suddenly.

Ardeth frowned for a moment before telling him in a convicted and certain tone, "Because I know you are a good man. Someone just needs to give you the opportunity to be one."

Rick shifted his weight uncomfortably, glancing back down the street. He cleared his throat and looked back at Ardeth, "So. Any suggestions on where I might find my brother?"

"From what I understand, he was picked up from prison by a pretty blonde who greeted him with a hug."

Rick snorted, glancing at the floor again. "That's Destiny."

Ardeth was confused; he wasn't sure what the other man meant by it being "destiny," but he didn't want to press him further. He glanced at his watch and groaned.

"I am so sorry, Rick, but I'm afraid I'm late."

Rick nodded, chuckling a little at Ardeth's disgruntled expression. "Have fun at the party."

Ardeth shot him a look. He watched as Rick started walking down the sidewalk, and offered to drop him off at the bus stop because it was several blocks away from his neighborhood, but he only shook his head. Sighing, Ardeth locked his house and got into his SUV, wishing he could just skip over the entire evening and be back home again.

He'd hated these sort of events even before Keisha had died, but they were even worse now that he had to go alone. These parties were always just glorified booze-fests, and Ardeth didn't drink - something that had always made his agents uncomfortable. Keisha used to make them comfortable, sipping at a glass of champagne to show them he wouldn't judge them for imbibing; really, the only thing he'd ever liked about these events was that they gave Keisha an opportunity to deck herself out in a simple evening gown and breathtaking jewels.

God, she was so beautiful.

He'd never forget a summer gala where she'd worn this soft, taupe-colored silk dress. The pale fabric made her mahogany skin glow. It had a high neckline but an open back, and she'd worn a long necklace with an emerald pendant backwards so that it tapped against her spine. Everyone had stared at her the entire evening, and he talked her into leaving earlier than she wanted so that he could rush her home and push her against the wall and take her. He could still taste the champagne on her lips as he kissed her like she was a phantom. Like he'd blink, and she'd disappear.

And then, one day...she did.

Ardeth shook his head, making the memory buckle and fade, slipping from the front of his mind. He couldn't think about her, as much as he wanted to. He couldn't make it through this evening with her on his mind. It would kill him.

He got out of the car and walked numbly into the building, handing the doorman his invitation absentmindedly. He took a breath and made an active effort to keep a distasteful look off of his face, his eyes downcast in the hopes that no one would notice him just now.

A waitor with a tray offered him a mysterious-looking hors' dourves. He was told it was something with duck liver and arugula and goat cheese and a hanful of other things he couldn't believe all fit onto one, tiny cracker and he shook his head.

"They're actually better than they look," a voice behind him said.

Ardeth turned around to meet Megan Chamberlain's catlike green eyes. She gave him a little smile and took two hors' dourves from the tray. The waitor walked off, and she held the cracker out to Ardeth expectantly.

He shook his head, eyeing the cracker with distrust. "I don't think I can eat something's...liver."

But Megan just stared at him persistently, the hors' dourves stubbornly held out to him. Her quizzical smile was hard to resist, and despite his uneasiness, he took the appetizer and popped it in his mouth. She grinned and slipped hers between her lips as well.

He'd felt a little bad about it at the time, but when Megan had walked into his office, he'd been surprised that Agent Burns' fiancee was so strikingly beautiful. He'd expected someone quiet and understated like himself - pleasant-looking, but not anything notable.

Instead, Burns had somehow managed to get a woman like Megan Chamberlain: tall and shapely, with high cheekbones and and smooth, pale skin and brilliant, emerald-colored eyes offset by almost-black hair. Tonight she wore a fitted cocktail frock that matched her eyes and heels he couldn't believe she could stand in. Her shoulder-length hair was pulled away from her lovely face in a simple bun.

And she wasn't wearing any jewelry.

"Well?" she said as he swallowed the bite. Ardeth smiled sheepishly and nodded.

"It was very good."

Her lips turned up in a smile. "I told you."

Ardeth nodded again. "Yes, you did." He looked at her curiously. "What are you doing here?"

Megan let out a sigh. "I think they invited me because of Bernard. I guess it's a nice gesture." She glanced around the room at the many well-dressed people mingling together. "And I came because...I just feel like I've been locked up for ages. I think everyone's trying to give me time and distance and everything...and I just had to get out of the house already."

Ardeth nodded knowingly. "People don't know how to respond."

She let out a short, humorless laugh. "No. They sure don't." She sighed again. "I guess you can't expect them to understand, though. I figure in a week or two they'll be telling me I'm still young and will find someone else."

Ardeth raised an eyebrow, an amused look on his face. "You mean they haven't started already?"

She laughed genuinely now, and he found himself liking the way her teeth flashed and the sound of her amusement, even though he felt guilty over it a moment after. He knew there was no avoiding beautiful women. When they were first married, Keisha had said, "You know, being married isn't about only being attracted to one person for the rest of your life. It's about only loving one person for the rest of your life." Still...when he found himself looking at another woman, and noticing her smile or her legs or pretty way her eyes flashed when she said something funny, he felt a deep pang of regret, and wished he could take it back.

"You know," she said as her laughter subsided, "I know this is going to sound really strange, but I've had a little more champagne than I should, so I'm going to say it anyway. You're the only person who's made me feel even a little bit better about all this."

Ardeth's eyes flashed up to hers, and they stared at each other for a quiet moment. Megan bit back an embarrassed smile, and pulled out the clutch under her arm.

"This is...whatever," she said awkwardly, opening the clutch and pulling out a business card. She held it out to him. "But I'd really like it if we could talk again sometime."

Ardeth swallowed uneasily, staring at the card for an awkward moment while he debated over what to say. A disappointed look past over her face, but she quickly hid it in an embarrassed wince, tucking the card back into her clutch quickly.

"Sorry," she said hurriedly. "I'm sorry. I'm just...um..."

Ardeth started shaking his head, feeling even more guilty over her discomfort and obvious embarrassment. "Oh, no, it's not...I'm sorry. It's just...my wife - "

He stopped mid-sentence, catching a glimpse of a strange figure across the room. He suddenly forgot what he was about to say and excused himself in a way she probably found cold and even more uncomfortable. But he was too preoccupied with the familiar figure to spend too much time regretting his impolite gesture. How could it be...on the mayor's arm...?

"Ardeth!" John Seti exclaimed, pulling his date to a reluctant stop. "Annika, this is the chief investigator with the FBI. He's an excellent agent, and I know I feel much safer knowing we have the federal government in Hamunaptra."

She nodded, glancing up at Ardeth nervously. His stomach twisted in shock and disgust, but he kept a firmly polite expression on his face and extended his hand to her.

"Ardeth Bay," he said.

She grasped it lightly. "Annika Namun."

He quirked an eyebrow, but turned his gaze back to the mayor. "Do you mind if I borrow your date for a dance, Mayor?"

Seti shook his head, cutting off her protests and giving Meela a gentle push towards the agent. Ardeth almost smiled and offered her his arm. Breathing a sigh, she took his elbow, holding her head high as he guided her out onto the dance floor. The band struck up the first chords to Etta James' "At Last," and he might have heard Meela scoff quietly to herself.

"Why do I get the impression you didn't just ask me out here for a dance?" she said, stepping smoothly into his arm and grasping his hand in hers. She let him take the first step, and she matched it fluidly.

Ardeth met her eyes evenly. "I should put you under arrest right now."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Oh? Is it illegal to attend parties now?"

"You know what you have done."

Meela shook her head. "Mr. Bay, I can assure you, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Ardeth pulled her to a stop. "I know who you are."

"Of course you do," she said carefully. "We just met."

His eyes narrowed. "Your name isn't Annika Namun."

She raised her eyebrows in interest. "Oh, isn't it?"

"Your name is Meela Nais, and you killed Agent Burns."

Meela's jaw dropped a little, and she stared at him in disbelief for a moment before quickly shaking her head. "I'm sorry you have me confused for such a person - "

"Stop it," he growled. "I am not going to play this game with you."

She let out a sigh. "Mr. Bay, if you would like to ruin the mayor's party, which he so _graciously_ threw for you, and haul me down to your headquarters, only to suffer the embarrassment of learning that I am, in fact, who I say I am...then, please, by all means." She held out her wrists to him readily, as if he had a set of handcuffs ready to snap over them.

Ardeth stared down at her wrists, both bare of the mark he was hoping to see, and glanced back up into her eyes. They stared at each other a long, tense moment, and then she took a small step closer. His breath came a little faster as she leaned forward, pressing her cheek against his and breathing a warm whisper into his ear:

"You have nothing, Med-Jai."

Ardeth's brow furrowed in confusion, a strange sense of dread dropping into his gut. He took a few steps back from her and stared into her dark, malicious eyes.

"What did you say?" he asked, his voice trembling a little.

Her mouth twisted in a superior little smirk. "It seems I know something about you as well."


	12. It Takes Two

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song "It Takes Two" by Marvin Gaye and Kim Weston__. Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**It Takes Two**

"Okay. Number three."

Renee took a deep breath and stared down at the little window, the fingers of both hands crossed. Her whole body was tight with anxiety as she watched first one line of blue ink, and then the next appear. She closed her eyes and breathed a shaking sigh, sickness knotting nervously in her stomach. She found herself nodding slowly, whispering "okay" to herself over and over and over.

"Okay, okay," she took a little breath. "Okay. It's going to be okay."

She straightened and met her own eyes in the bathroom mirror, telling herself again that it was going to be okay. And somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew it was, even if she didn't believe it just then. She'd hoped the first test was one of those elusive false positives, and that maybe the second was a fluke. But three...No, three made it true. Three made it real. People don't get three wrong pregnancy tests.

Renee ran her hand through her hair and tried not to let the flood of thoughts overwhelm her. She had decent benefits through the hospital, and she only had another year left of school, so maybe -

She shook her head, trying to blink it all away. She couldn't try and take all of that in right now. She'd take care of that later. Right now, she just needed to breathe.

She started to slip to the bathroom floor, wanting to just sit and breathe until she could make sense of everything. But she never made it to her seat; she heard a heavy knock on the door, and jumped. She didn't want to answer it, but she opened the bathroom door and trudged across the living room anyway. Somehow, the thought of seeing another person seemed like a welcome distraction.

Renee didn't even look to see who it was and opened the door, her gaze colliding headlong into Rick's deep, blue-green eyes. She heard herself gasp and just stared at him, unable to speak a word. His brow furrowed in concern.

"Are you alright?"

She didn't say anything. She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his neck and started crying. Her knees shook and she was sure she would have collapsed if it weren't for his arms holding her up. She felt him patting her back gently, telling her that it was going to be okay, even though he didn't know what "it" was. She felt numb as he gently pulled out of her embrace and led her to the couch. He sat with her patiently as she gasped back sobs and struggled to regain her composure.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He looked at her quizzically, because he didn't think she had anything to be sorry over. Her stomach turned. "It's okay. Just tell me what's wrong."

Renee shook her head. "Rick...I can't..."

"Sure you can," he said softly. "You can tell me anything."

She swallowed hard, wiping away the guilty, black tears that streamed through her mascara lashes. "You're going to hate me."

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to him, and she leaned her head on his shoulder even though she had no right doing so. She wanted her terrible secret to disappear; she wanted to feel his arms around her and erase everything from New Year's Eve on.

"What's wrong?" he whispered into her hair.

Renee let out a long sigh, pulling herself from his embrace. She didn't deserve it. And she would rather not feel his body stiffen with anger and betrayal when he heard what she had to say. She scooted over to the edge of the couch and looked at him steadily, hoping he'd believe the apologetic sorrow in her eyes.

"I'm pregnant."

The words dropped out of her mouth and sat between them like two heavy rocks. Renee watched his face anxiously, but she couldn't read his expression at first. His eyes widened suddenly, and he gawked at her.

"You're_ pregnant?"_ he asked, his tone shocked.

She nodded, and attempted to hold her trembling hands steady in her lap.

"How pregnant?"

She blinked, shivering a little at his demanding tone. "I just found out..."

"When?"

Renee met his eyes and told him, almost irritably, "Today. Just now."

Rick shook his head, leaning against the couch. "How can you be pregnant?"

She cleared her throat awkwardly, wincing a little. "Um, the normal way."

He snorted. "Well, I wouldn't have believed you if you said it was the Holy Spirit."

Renee met his eyes. "That's really not funny."

"Well what do you want me to say, Destiny?" he demanded, raising his voice. " 'Congratulations? Let's name it Rick!'?"

She stood up quickly, pacing to the other side of the room. "You know, I really don't need this right now."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said sarcastically. "Excuse me for not taking this news too well."

Renee sucked in a little breath, nodding her head. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I'm sorry. I'm just really...This isn't exactly good news for me, either."

Rick stared at her a moment, and then his expression softened. He let out a loud sigh and patted the couch next to him.

"Come here."

She started to shake her head, but the look on his face was persistent. She gave in and sat down next to him.

"Let's just...let's talk through this. We can work this out," he said. He turned and looked at her. "Do you at least know whose it is?"

Renee's mouth gaped, and she glared at him with insulted eyes for a moment. "Of course I do!"

Rick held up his hands in defeat. "Okay, okay. It's not a totally unreasonable question - "

"Yes, it is," she cut in tersely. He winced a little and nodded his head.

"Okay. Sorry. But let's just...start there. Who's the father?"

Renee took a breath, and then quickly shut her mouth. Suddenly she found herself wishing she hadn't reacted that way earlier, and just lied and told him she didn't know who the kid belonged to instead. That seemed a lot easier than telling the truth, but she supposed she had no choice. Rick already knew she was pregnant. Lying about the father seemed senseless now.

"It's...Beni," she said slowly, bracing herself for his reaction.

She heard his jaw click, and watched him open and close his fists a few times.

"Yeah, we can't work this out," he said, getting up from the couch.

Renee let out a groan. "Rick - "

"What?" he snapped, already halfway to her door.

Her eyes retreated to her hands. "I don't...I don't know..." She glanced up at him desperately. "Just please don't leave."

Rick shook his head. "I don't think you're going to like anything I have to say if I stay here."

Renee stood up, crossing over to him quickly. "Look, it's not - "

"I mean, what the hell's the matter with you?" he nearly shouted, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "You know, I would kind of get it if you met somebody at school, and you didn't want to break up with me while I was in prison - I would get that. But after five years you hop into bed with our sleazy brother?"

She started to say something, but he interrupted her again:

"Is this a thing? Have you been doing this for a while?"

"No!" she said loudly, taking the opportunity to finally get a word in. "Of course not!"

"So, what?" he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "This was a one-time deal?"

Renee's mouth gaped wordlessly, and her eyes quickly slipped to the floor. She didn't know what to say. She was afraid if she told him about New Year's Eve, that he'd never believe that she'd only slept with Beni twice. But she couldn't lie to him and say it had only been the one time...

He scoffed humorlessly, staring at her in disgusted disbelief.

"I'm done, Destiny."

She nodded, and made no move to stop him as he opened the door and slammed it behind him, striding down the hall. Rick's mind was buzzing red and furious, and he couldn't make sense of anything. He kind of wanted to punch something, and kept his hands balled into fists just in case the opportunity presented itself.

He was blustering along so agitated by the thought of Destiny cheating on him with Beni, of all people, that he ran right into someone coming down the hall and nearly knocked her over. He caught her by her wrist just before she toppled to the floor and his gaze collided with Evelyn's wide, surprised eyes.

"Rick," she said curiously. "Pardon me."

He shook his head, feeling his face get a little hot with embarrassment. Here he was, bumbling along after that frustrated conversation, and he'd almost hurt a sweet, pretty girl like Evelyn. "No, pardon _me._ I wasn't paying any attention to where I was going."

She glanced down the hall behind him and bit her lip. "Are you leaving?"

Rick nodded, watching a flicker of disappointment in the depths of her green-gray eyes before she quickly looked down. When he'd met her the other night, he'd thought she was so pretty and intelligent, and he figured he must have been imagining her attraction to him. After all, what could a girl like that see in someone like him? But he could tell from the nervous way she fidgeted and the slight pout of her lips that she really _did_ wish she'd caught him at the apartment.

Of course, she had no way of knowing that the conversation was far from a pleasant one.

"Oh," she said. "Well, I'm sorry I missed you..."

She started back down the hall, but his grip tightened on her wrist, and he pulled her to a stop.

"What are you doing right now?" he asked.

Evelyn blinked in confusion, sputtering for a moment before finally telling him, "Nothing..."

"Come have a drink with me."

She frowned. "Right now?"

He shrugged. She bit back a smile, and shrugged as well. "...Alright."


	13. I'll Give You Shelter from the Storm

**_Author's Note. _**_So, I apologize for this short, a little drabbly chapter. For some reason, I had an incredibly difficult time getting this scene off. The next chapter should be longer, a little more interesting, and will be up soon._

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song "Shelter from the Storm" by Bob Dylan__. Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**I'll Give You Shelter from the Storm**

Meela took a shaking breath as she closed the car door behind her. She turned and forced a little smile for the man she'd been sitting with in the backseat, giving him a wave as his driver pulled away from the apartment. Another date. Another avoided advance. She'd let Seti kiss her, and her skin still crawled from the memory. She knew she had to give him_ something_; this was their third outing, and she could tell he'd been expecting more than her kiss.

She'd told him she'd just gotten out of a difficult relationship, and that she wasn't ready to start sleeping with someone again. He'd told her that he understood and would give her the time she needed, though it was easy to tell he hadn't entirely met it. He would give her time up to a certain point, perhaps. But she knew she couldn't keep him waiting forever.

She supposed it was a good thing, then, that Beni was killing him tonight.

Meela straightened her shoulders and glided confidently into the apartment building, hitting the call light for the elevator and waiting with an expressionless face. Inside, she was trembling. She couldn't help but worry that something might go terribly wrong, particularly since she'd left this task in Beni's hands. But she breathed a sigh and told herself a glass of red wine would make it all better.

She stepped into the elevator and went up to her floor alone. She had four apartments in the city, but this loft was her favorite. It was situated on the very top floor of a sky-high building in the narrow, crisscrossing old streets of downtown. She liked the noise and the lights and the incredible view, even though this apartment was comparably smaller than the other three. It was the perfect place to feel alone.

Meela pulled her keys out of her purse and unlocked the door, eager to get her feet out of those stillettos. Her aching arches were starting to go numb. She slipped into the soft darkness of the apartment and took off both shoes before reaching for the light, but her hand was stopped on the switch. She sucked in a little breath and almost cried out in surprise, but she recognized the arms that pulled her close and the clean, soapy smell of his skin. Before she could utter a word, his lips took hers in the blackness.

A quiet moan escaped her throat as his kiss became deeper, her whole body starting to buzz with excitement and anticipation. She heard him lock the door and then felt his hands tugging her tight, black dress up her legs. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he picked her up, carrying her the few feet to her table. She heard her candles hit the floor and felt the tablecloth rumble under her spine as he pushed her down and leaned over her. A thrill rushed through her body at the touch of his lips, his hands, the weight of his body. Her heart raced.

"Imhotep," she whispered, gasping at the feel of him. He quieted her with a kiss and they made love in the dark, too high above the world to be heard or interrupted. She wrapped her legs around his waist and forgot completely about John Seti and Beni and the intended accident meant to take place tonight, perhaps even happening right now...

He let out a little moan and collapsed against her, resting his forehead against her cheek. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close, her hand running over the shaved top of his head.

"Where have you been?" she whispered, slowly opening her eyes to the endless black.

He didn't tell her. For a moment, they just held each other, his breath hot against her skin. And then slowly, reluctantly, he pulled himself away from her and stood up.

"I have missed you," he said. She sat up, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dark. She found his gaze and held it.

"I missed you too," she said.

She heard, more than saw, him adjust his suit back into place. She let out a long sigh, raking through her mussed strands of hair with her nails.

"It's so difficult," she said, "running this city without you."

"I know."

Meela ran her tongue over her lips, still swollen from his passionate kisses. "Last night the Med-Jai found me at Seti's gala. He knows I killed the agent. I don't know what to do."

She heard him sigh, and then felt his hand cupping her face.

"Don't worry over him."

She frowned curiously. "Why?"

He kissed her forehead, and she felt him smile against her. "Because I said not to. Trust me, my love."

Meela shook her head. "We cannot risk killing another FBI agent. Especially with Seti - "

He quieted her with a kiss, and despite herself, a strange calm slipped through her veins at the warmth of his lips and his hand on her face. She knew she was strong and capable on her own, but she was exhausted by the loneliness and uncertainty of acting without him while he was away. Now she felt safer, just having him there.

"Don't worry," he said again softly.


	14. Said the Joker to the Thief

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song "All Along the Watchtower" by Jimi Hendrix__. Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**Said the Joker to the Thief**

Beni took a deep breath and checked his watch. Meela said she and the mayor were going out to dinner at eight; he figured an hour for dinner - an hour and a half at the most - plus probably another half an hour's worth of driving time, considering he had to drop her off and then come all the way out to the sticks where he lived...Anyway, the man should be home by now. It wasn't like they'd done anything more than dinner.

He couldn't help but snicker at Seti's bad luck there, though his amusement was quickly chased by irritation with Meela. God, it must be easy to be a woman. All she had to do was open her legs for the right man, and she'd have everything taken care of, forever. That was obviously the only reason she all but ran the Scarab Society. Here he was, scrounging for a living, and all Meela had to do was get on her back to make more money and control more assets than he'd ever see in his life. He hated that about Meela. About all women, really.

Headlights sweeped past him, and he looked up hopefully, but he was quickly disappointed to see a minivan instead of the black Cadillac Meela had told him to expect. Bored and annoyed, he reached into his pocket for a cigarette before realizing he couldn't smoke it. He muttered a few curses and slipped the pack back into his pocket.

She'd told him she wanted something that looked like a tragic accident. Fortunately, Seti lived all by himself in the Mayor's Mansion, which had been rebuilt on the west edges of town when the original, ancient property burnt down ten years ago. He was somewhere in his sixties and not particularly health-conscious, so Beni figured it wouldn't be terribly hard to give him the kind of death other people would think was an accident.

He'd been wandering the many halls and rooms of the mansion for the last two hours, having slipped in with no trouble at all thanks to Meela's knowledge of his home security codes. He didn't like spending too much time at the scene of the crime, especially with all that...CSI shit they could do to track someone down. He also hated being trapped in a big, expensive house full of big, expensive things that he couldn't touch, much less take. He would have loved to have spent the last two hours skimming through hundreds of television channels on Seti's giant flat-screen, or popped the cork on one of his countless bottles of wine in the cellar. As it was, Beni was too paranoid about leaving behind evidence to even take a piss.

And he really wasn't sure how much longer he could put_ that_ off.

Much to his relief, he caught sight of a new pair of headlights slow on the street and make the turn up the drive. Beni scurried across the room and re-set the alarm with a gloved hand, rushing up the long, steep staircase and crouching there, motionless, as the grace period expired and the alarm enabled itself. He held his breath for what felt like an eternity until, _finally_, the front door unlocked and Seti slipped inside. Beni heard the beep of the buttons as he cancelled the alarm. He must have flipped a light switch, because Beni could faintly make out a glow reaching up the stairs. He heard Seti bumble around the first floor for a while - not very long - before starting up the stairs.

His footsteps were matched by the clink of ice in a glass as he trudged up and up. Beni ran his tongue over his lips impatiently, leaning hard against the wall just out of eyesight. He could almost feel Seti's presence, just a few steps away from the second floor landing. Just a few...more...

He caught a glimpse of Seti's aging form in the dark, his first foot about to connect with the landing and his other still on the step, and Beni took the opportunity. He jumped out of his hiding place and gave Seti a forceful push. The older man let out a yell as he careened backwards, his back connecting with the stairs with a loud crack before his body slid down the remainder of the flight. His head hit the floor first, a pool of dark blood spreading around his balding crown like a halo. Beni gulped, his body twitching as he surveyed the scene and slowly took the first step down. And then the next.

Seti's glass had hit one of the steps and shattered, spewing bourbon and ice all down the stairway. Beni gripped the handrail hard and stepped over puddles and ice cubes. The last thing he needed was to slip and fall down right next to Seti.

He kept glancing down nervously at the man, never quite satisfied by his stillness, despite all the blood. As he neared Seti, sprawled out over the last few steps with his head on the floor, Beni frowned. He took a deep breath, picking his way over Seti's limbs and finally setting a foot on the floor. He breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped over the blood and stood on the other side of this whole mess, looking down at Seti only once. He was a little sickened by the smell of blood and he was impatient to get out of there. He padded across the room and was halfway to the little back door that let onto the kitchen when he heard it.

A sharp, rasping breath.

Beni's stomach turned. Really? A man of his age had fallen down a huge flight of stairs, cracked open his head, and he was breathing? Beni let out a groan, cursing his bad luck as he scurried back over to the scene.

His face looked like a fish, mouth gaping for air and eyes wide and buggy. He met Beni's gaze with desperation, his breath rattling in his throat. He was apparently unable to speak.

Beni wasn't sure what to do. The man didn't seem too far from death's door; he could leave him here and he'd probably die on his own...unless someone happened upon him by chance...

Meela said it had to look like an accident, and he couldn't think of anything that would end the man and still look accidental. However, she'd also said that killing him was the important thing...

Without another thought, Beni pressed his gloved hand over Seti's nose and mouth, closing off the air. The mayor made a feeble attempt to squirm and fight him, but he couldn't seem to lift his limbs. In almost no time, his eyes rolled back and he stopped moving completely.

Beni breathed a sigh, straightening quickly and scurrying out of the house before anything else could happen. His whole body was alive with fear and agitation, and he didn't feel even remotely safe until he was tearing through the little strip of woods that surrounded the Mayor's Mansion. He ran right into a tree and yelped, rubbing his head. He wasn't willing to stop for long, though. He kept running, until he could make out Gad's pick-up on the side of the road. He yanked the gloves off of his hands and shoved them in his pocket before fumbling for the keys and hopping in, locking the doors quickly behind him. His breath came in short, fearful gasps as he sped down the country road and pulled out onto the highway that would take him back into the bustling, anonymous safety of the city.

Swallowing hard, he punched the volume button and let the radio blare music into his ears, comforted by the noise. It was done. It was all done. Seti was dead, and Meela would have Lock taken care of, and Beni would soon be moving up in the world. That thought spread a greasy grin across his face, and his anxiety over Seti faded considerably. He started to think about what kind of lucrative position Meela would give him in exchange for this task - it would certainly be something good, since he could always threaten to tell Imhotep that she'd had Beni secretly go against his plan. As he filled his mind with thoughts of swanky apartments and nice suits and being greeted with that kind of fearful respect people use when a person has power, he found himself wanting to brag to someone about his good fortune.

He turned down a familiar street and pulled out the cell phone Renee had helped him get, since his last one had a sizable overdue bill and was out of date, anyway. He found her number easily and hit the "send" button. She sounded a little strange, like she was sick or something, but she told him that she was pretty sure Evelyn was in bed for the night, and that she'd let him in if he texted her when he got to the door. She said she had something to tell him, too, though he was too consumed with his own news to really wonder much over hers.

Within ten minutes, he was at her door, fumbling with the phone keyboard. He'd hated texting before; even though it was popular when he went into prison, apparently now it was all anyone ever did. He managed to type "here" and sent the stupid message, tapping his foot until he heard Renee unlock and unchain the door, and let him in.

She stood there in those kind of boxer shorts that were supposed to look like they'd been borrowed from a boyfriend but were clearly made for women (and probably made by Victoria's Secret) and a thin T-shirt that was made to look "worn in" but was obviously new. Her long hair was braided over her shoulder, and the pale strands of highlighted hair kept catching the light from her room as she glanced nervously over her shoulder at Evelyn's door. She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to her room, closing her door quickly but quietly behind her.

"Sorry," she whispered, "I just don't think she'd be too happy to see you at this time of night."

Beni scoffed. "I don't think she would be happy to see me at any time."

Renee shrugged helplessly and gave him a little nod of agreement. "Yeah..."

"I don't care," he said, plopping down on her bed. "I am going to be rich."

Renee bit back a chuckle as she sat down next to him. "Oh? For real this time?"

He took the opportunity to touch her smooth, bare leg and gave her a swat. "Shut up. Yes, for real this time."

"How do you figure?"

He held up his arm, and she rolled her eyes at the tattoo. "You already told me about that stupid Society. And you already know what I think about it."

Beni scoffed. "Well I just made myself indisposable. And I have been promised a lot of money for it."

Renee put her hands over her ears. "I don't want to hear what you did."

He let out a whiny sigh. "Oh, this again?"

"I mean it, " she said, her dark eyes deeply serious. "I'm not lying in a courtroom again. Even for you."

Beni groaned. "Well what was the point of coming over here, then?"

Renee's eyebrows rose. "I don't know. Maybe to see your sister."

"Psh," he said. "You are not my sister." A dark smirk crept up the side of his face. "I would not fuck my sister."

Her nose wrinkled in a slight grimace. "You know I don't like that word...used like that."

Beni rolled his eyes. "Oh, my God, you would not last one day in prison."

"Yeah, I know," she retorted. "That's why I don't do anything illegal."

He let out a snort, leaning back and laying on the bed. "So now that you ruined my news, why don't you tell me yours?"

Renee jumped in surprise, biting down on her lip uncertainly. She sat there quietly, twisting her fingers together in a nervous way. His brow furrowed and he frowned at her.

"Are you going to tell me or what?"

Renee swallowed hard and shook her head. "Umm...I don't know. Maybe not now."

Beni propped himself up on his elbows. "Seriously?"

She met his eyes, breathing a heavy sigh. She started to say something, but quickly shut her mouth.

"It's not important," she said, her tone unconvincing. Beni let out a whiny sigh and collapsed against the bed again.

"Whatever."

Renee was clearly uneasy, but Beni was exhausted from all of the anxiety he suffered at Seti's house, and anyway, he was a little annoyed with her for not listening to his story. She started to get up and said something about needing to go brush her teeth, but Beni was unmoved from where he lay.

"Well, anyway, it's probably time I get to bed..."

"You can be nice and hint about it all you want," he said irritably, "I am not ready to leave."

Renee let out a tired sigh. "Why? It's late."

He sat up a little and looked at her with big, mournful eyes. "Let me sleep here."

"No."

"Oh, come on, Dez," he whined. "The place I am staying at is a dump. And your bed is so _soft,_ and I am _so tired..."_

She sighed again, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Fine," she said, sounding too tired to argue with him. "Evelyn has an early class...if you stay in here, she'll never even know you were here. But you're going to_ stay in here,_ right?"

Beni snorted. "Where would I go?"

Renee shrugged, looking a little exasperated. "I don't know. You seem to like eating at all hours of the night."

"I have a sleep disorder," he said in his grating sing-song. "It is not my fault."

She rolled her eyes, reaching up to unravel her braid. He started to pull his shirt off and gave her a wink.

"Don't worry, Dez. I won't get you in trouble."

Her fingers froze for a moment, and then she quickly resumed her task.


	15. Someone Told Me Long Ago

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song "Have You Ever Seen the Rain?" by CCR__. Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**Someone Told Me Long Ago, There's a Calm Before the Storm**

"Hey, what's the deal?"

Ardeth paced his office in agitation, muttering in a language Rick didn't recognize. He glanced up at him and shook his head, a strange, urgent expression on his face. He crossed over to his desk and picked up the newspaper, holding it out to Rick wordlessly.

Rick frowned at the headline, which stated something about Mayor Seti being found dead at the bottom of his stairs by his driver this morning. He glanced at the photo featured of him, smiling in his suit, and then looked up at Ardeth.

"So, the mayor's dead," Rick said slowly, not entirely sure what had the agent so bothered.

Ardeth nodded. "Yes. It seems he fell down a flight of stairs at his home."

Rick shrugged. "He was an older guy..."

"I don't think this was an accident," Ardeth said quickly, stopping in his tracks to take the newspaper back from Rick and glare down at the article. "I saw Mayor Seti on Friday night. He was with Meela Nais."

Rick's eyes widened in surprise. "Meela? She was there?"

He nodded. "With a different name. Annika Namun."

"Huh," Rick sighed, slipping down into the chair across from Ardeth's desk. "So you think the Scarab Society was behind this."

Ardeth looked at him with intense, dark eyes. "I _know_ they were."

Rick nodded quietly, lifting his cup of coffee to his lips. Ardeth's gaze returned to the article and shook his head.

"They are pending an autopsy report," he let out a groan. "Prying that out of the hands of the HPD is going to be a project."

Rick's eyebrows jerked up. "You can't tell them this is part of a federal investigation?"

Ardeth sighed. "Even if they did care about that, it's going to be difficult to convince Comissioner Havlock that the autopsy report of an old man falling down the stairs has much to do with our investigation."

Despite Ardeth's current predicament, Rick couldn't help chuckling. "Oh, ol' Winston's the Comissioner now?"

Ardeth rolled his eyes. "Yes. And believe me, nothing has made my job here harder than having to work around a man who believes the FBI should have been disbanded at the end of Prohibition."

Rick chuckled again, but Ardeth's face became strangely serious. He scratched his well-trimmed beard thoughtfully, and then shrugged.

"Of course, this might just be the case we need. If this can be connected back to Meela, we might finally have her in a position to give us Imhotep."

Ardeth picked up his briefcase and strode for the door.

"Come on," he threw over his shoulder. Rick jumped to his feet and hurried along behind him.

"So, what? We're going to go see Winston?"

Ardeth shook his head. "That would be useless. We're going to go see the DA." He let out a sigh. "Who is only slightly less useless."

Rick snorted, struggling to match Ardeth's determined strides. His SUV was parked close since he always arrived so early, and he and Rick got in quickly. As he started the ignition, Ardeth glanced at the other man.

"Did you happen to find your brother this weekend?"

Rick let out a sigh. "Uh, no...Something kind of...came up..."

Between his irritation with Renee and his impromptu date with Evelyn, he'd kind of lost track of the task Ardeth had given him, and now he felt a little guilty for it. Ardeth was so dedicated to his job, and he was the first person in a long time to believe in Rick. He cleared his throat.

"I'll find him today," he said, determined.

But Ardeth didn't seem upset or even disappointed over his failure. He nodded and kept driving, pulling into the first available parking spot in front of the courthouse. Rick hurried to keep up with the agent as he made his way through the familiar building. Rick breathed a sigh, a strange, eerie feeling in his gut. The last time he was here, he was being sentenced for that bank job, and contemplating his dismal future of five years behind bars.

Ardeth took the wide, marble stairs up to the second floor two at a time. His foot skidded on one of the steps, and Rick reached a hand up to catch him, but he quickly regained his balance.

"Careful," Rick said, "or Mayor Seti won't be the only one dead at the bottom of some stairs."

Ardeth snorted. "That would be ironic."

They made it to the second floor, and Ardeth took a sharp turn to the left, down a narrow hallway to a closed door that still bore the original gold-and-black lettering on the fogged glass pane. Apparently, this had_ always_ been the district attorney's office. Ardeth knocked loudly, and a muffled voice told them it was busy. Rolling his eyes, Ardeth burst into the room anyway. Rick shrugged and followed him.

The DA looked at them with bleary eyes and jerked up to a sitting position in surprise. He let out an exasperated sigh when he saw Ardeth, reaching a hand up to rub his face.

"Oh bloody hell," he muttered in a British accent. "What do _you_ want?"

Ardeth leaned over his desk, his nose wrinkling in disgust. "Are you drunk?"

"Oh, no," the DA said dismissively, waving off his words with just a little too much enthusiasm. "I may have had a spot of scotch - "

"You're at work," Ardeth said, his expression a little shocked.

"Pfft," the other man retorted. "You know,_ everybody_ used to drink at work. Watch an episode of_ Mad Men_, would you?"

Ardeth sucked in a breath, his jaw tightening with irritation.

"Jonathan," he said with forced patience, "I have something very important to discuss with you."

The DA let out a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose and blinking hard.

"I suppose there's no getting rid of you until we talk," he grumbled. Jonathan reached into his desk and pulled out a very large bottle of aspirin. He popped a handful of pills into his mouth and swallowed them dry, gagging a little before meeting Ardeth's wide eyes.

"You know those are blood thinners, don't you?"

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Good God, did you come all this way to lecture me about my health?"

Ardeth let out a sigh, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from Jonathan's desk. Rick quietly did the same, meeting the attorney's curious scowl.

"A new agent?"

Rick shook his head, holding out his hand. "Uh, no. My name's Rick O'Connell. I'm...helping Ardeth with this case."

Jonathan looked surprised. "Hm. And Ardeth so rarely wants help from anybody..." He shook his head, quickly taking Rick's hand. "Sorry, I'm being terribly rude. It's this hangover business. Bloody Mondays, you know. I'm Jonathan Carnahan, the sorry soul stuck with this job around these parts."

Rick shook his hand and sat back in his seat, but Jonathan was frowning at him persistently.

"Have we met before?" he asked. "Your name is terribly familiar to me."

Rick shook his head, though inwardly he was making some surprising connections. Jonathan's last name was Carnahan - the same as Evelyn - and he shared her accent. She said she had a brother...but could _this guy_ really be related to Evelyn?

"Ah, it's no matter," Jonathan said easily, turning his attention to Ardeth. He sat up a little, and even though his eyes were bloodshot, he seemed a little more alert. "So Ardeth, my good son, what is it you think I can help you with on this fine Monday morning?"

Ardeth leaned forward a little. "Have you heard about Mayor Seti?"

Jonathan sighed gravely and nodded. "Oh, yes. Poor bloke took a spill down the stairs. Of course, the news failed to reach us early enough to close office today..."

Ardeth let out an exasperated sigh. "I have reason to believe his death was no accident."

Jonathan met his eyes a moment and gave him a shrug. "Well, that's the trouble with autopsies. They take a bit of time."

"He was out with a woman that night."

Jonathan sighed, looking a little weary. "Yes, I read the papers. But his driver dropped him off alone."

Ardeth shook his head, undetered. "I know there is more to this. And I would appreciate your assistance in making this a federal case when the time comes. I am not exaggerating when I say this is going to be the biggest case of your career."

The DA leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling for a moment. He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh before slowly returning his gaze to Ardeth.

"And what are you going to do if we find out he was just an older man who'd had a little too much to drink and took a nasty spill?"

The agent stared back at him steadily. "I am _this close_ to having Imhotep. This close. I can feel it."

Jonathan sighed again. "Well, I wish you luck in that. If it turns out it _was_ foul play, I'll be happy to work with whatever evidence you have."

Ardeth nodded, satisfied, and shook Jonathan's hand. The DA bid him goodbye and told Rick it was nice to meet him, as they walked briskly out the door. Rick hurried to keep up with Ardeth's determined steps. He was so focused on matching the agent's quick strides that he actually bumped into the man's back when he stopped all of the sudden.

He glanced up and saw what had drawn Ardeth's attention: across the courthouse lobby, sipping a Starbucks as she looked over the directory of names on the wall, was a striking brunette. He glanced at Ardeth and saw him run a tongue over his lips before turning to Rick.

"If you will give me a moment - "

Rick gave him a lopsided grin and slapping him on the shoulder. "Hey, buddy, take your time. I'm gonna go see if I can't track down my brother."

Ardeth nodded and quickly crossed the room to the woman. Rick chuckled to himself as he slipped out the door and took a turn down the street towards the nearest bus stop. He had to find Beni...and he was going to have to go back to Renee's to find out where he was staying.

Rick's stomach turned a little at the prospect of coming face to face with Renee again, particularly since having such a nice night out with Evelyn. He was momentarily distracted from his task by the memory of her sparkling eyes and the cute way her nose wrinkled when she smiled. They'd both had a little too much to drink; Rick started with harder stuff than usual because of his annoyance with Renee, but Evelyn's nervous giggles quickly put the argument in the back of his mind.

_"You're wondering what a girl like me is doing in a place like this," _she'd said after her third appletini. And she told him all about how she'd always wanted to attend college in Britain, but had a change of heart at the last minute, and stayed here to be with her brother.

As he stepped onto the bus, he chuckled to himself, remembering how she kept touching his arm or his leg when she started a sentence as soon as the first drink had worked its magic on her nerves. He'd gotten them a cab and told her he really wanted to see her again, and she'd told him she wanted to see him, too.

Rick sighed, and supposed there would be no avoiding Renee if he was going to keep taking Evelyn out on dates. He winced a little, though, at the prospect of telling her that he'd gone out with her roommate the very same day he'd ended their six-year relationship. Maybe...maybe it'd be better to hold off on telling her that for a while. He liked Evelyn a lot, and he really wanted to do things right and take it slow. If he didn't do anything stupid, like stay overnight, he might be able to...ease into the whole situation with Renee.

He scoffed to himself. A part of him kind of wanted to tell her he was already seeing someone else, someone who was clearly a much better person. A selfish part of him really wanted her to feel at least a little of the hurt he'd felt over her betrayal, but he knew it wasn't fair to Evelyn to make her living situation awkward. That, and...Well, despite it all, Renee was the closest thing to family he'd ever had. Even though he was still very angry with her, he didn't want her to think that he'd left her alone in the world.

As the bus pulled up to the stop near her apartment building, Rick resolved to take the humble road. He'd apologize for the way he acted, and he'd tell her he would be there for her - just not as her boyfriend. Never again as her boyfriend. Then he could help her figure out what to do about the baby, and what to do about Beni. And maybe then, she'd tell him where the son of a bitch was staying.

Rick walked the two blocks from the bus stop to the apartment and took the stairs up to her floor. He breathed a sigh, part of him hoping that Evelyn was there, and part of him hoping she wasn't. And then he knocked on the door.


	16. What a Black Day

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song "Smooth Criminal" by Michael Jackson__. Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**What a Black Day**

Meela was startled awake from the comfort of her sheets by the sound of something crashing to the floor. Sher jerked up to a sitting postion, eyes wide as she scanned the little loft for the source of the noise. Her gaze collided immediately with Imhotep's back, his tense form staring at the television screen in shock. The back of his neck was turning a little red, and one of Meela's big, stone vases was laying at his feet.

"Did you see this?" he demanded, whirling around to look her in the eye. She peered around him to the newscast, where she could just make out the words: "Mayor Seti found dead..." under the reporters' grim faces.

Meela blinked hard, running her hand through her hair. Imhotep was rarely a rash man; often, it seemed he erred on the side of serenity. But he was far from calm this morning. Standing there in only his pants, she found herself tracing over the thick, dramatic black lines of the winged scarab tattoo that spanned his shoulders. She stared at the mark and tried to focus on creating a quiet but surprised facade.

"He's dead?" she said quietly.

"Yes!" Imhotep almost shouted in his smooth, cultured voice. "The bastard slipped and fell down the stairs!"

Meela breathed a sigh of relief. So Beni hadn't mucked up the job after all.

"How am I supposed to destroy the Ahmad line if Seti goes and dies all on his own?"

Meela sucked in a little breath, her whole body tensing. "Perhaps this is a stroke of good luck. We're under scrutiny the way it is."

Imhotep scoffed, and she glanced at her hands.

She knew why he wanted Seti dead. When he was a boy back in Egypt, his entire family - a wealthy, educated group - was murdered by a Muslim extremist clan after Imhotep's uncle, a professor of biology, published an article discrediting the traditional Muslim views of creationism. Imhotep managed to survive only by hiding in a bathroom cabinet for nearly six hours. He hid his identity for years, and then, at the age of seventeen, he started hunting the Ahmads down.

He'd killed all of the extremists responsible for his family's massacre, but he was not satisfied merely to do that. The Ahmad family stretched to America, to an estranged branch of the family that immigrated during the 1950's. Imhotep didn't care that they were innocent of the crimes against his family, so far removed from the Egyptian Ahmads both geographically and idealistically. The Ahmads had slain devout Muslims in his family with no discretion. Why should he show the rest of the Ahmads any such courtesy?

John Seti was the last of the Ahmads, as far as Imhotep knew. John Seti, a man more European than Egyptian in heritage, who was beginning his first campaign for office as a fresh, young man during the time that his distant, Egyptian relatives were murdering a boy's entire family.

Given the circumstances, Meela had more to avenge against John Seti than Imhotep did.

But she wouldn't dare say that. She knew he had suffered terribly on account of the Ahmads. And it would be insensitive to suggest that his desire to avenge his family was a little overzealous and unnecessary, ever since the true criminals had been laid to bloody rest.

She was drawn out of her thoughts by Imhotep's heavy sigh. He trudged back over to the bed and sunk to his seat. Meela pulled herself from the sheets and crawled over to him, wrapping her arms about his shoulders and leaning her face against the tattoo. A sliver of guilt crept down her spine before dissolving a moment later. No. It was better this way. And it had been unfair of him to ask her to become involved with that man again. He would acclimate to this news soon, and accept it. Surely John Seti wasn't the first Ahmad to lose his life before he had the opportunity to take it.

Meela kissed his neck, and he reached up and touched her arm. He turned and looked at her, and they watched each other for a long moment in silence.

"I suppose it is done," he said finally, breathing a sigh. "Though certainly not as satisfying as I had hoped."

She nodded her head, rubbing his arm. "I know your family is at peace, now that the Ahmads are dead."

Imhotep glanced down, closing his eyes for a moment. She reached up to touch his face, but was interrupted by the sound of her cell phone. They both jumped, and turned towards the noise. With a frown, Meela leaned across the bed and snatched it from the bedside table, glancing at the name on the screen. She let out a little groan and hit the ignore button.

Imhotep looked at her curiously. "Who was it?"

Meela shook her head. "Just Dr. Chamberlain. He can wait."

But Imhotep was shaking his head as well. "No, answer it. Please."

Meela started to protest, but his gaze was so persistent that she figured she couldn't argue with him. She picked up the phone and redialed his number. Dr. Chamberlain picked up on the first ring.

"Hello?"

Meela sighed. "You called?"

There was something peculiar and smug in the professor's refined voice. "I was wondering if perhaps you'd like to have that information on John Seti now."

Imhotep rose his eyebrows in interest, meeting Meela's confused frown.

"John Seti is dead," she said slowly.

Dr. Chamberlain nearly chuckled on the other line. "Yes...but his neice and nephew are not."

A strange look passed through Imhotep's black eyes, and he stared into Meela's gaze for a quiet moment before slowly nodding his head.

"We're listening," Meela said at last.

She could hear the smirk in Dr. Chamberlain's voice. "As you may or may not be aware of, geneaolgy is something of a hobby of mine. And Mayor Seti had asked me to flush out his family tree, to see if I might find one living relative, since all of his seemed to have...dropped off in an untimely manner. As it turns out, he had a sister on his father's side - the Egyptian side, mind you - he never knew about. His sister is unfortunately dead, but she has two surviving children."

Meela sighed, glancing up to see a grim smile on Imhotep's face.

"And what can we give you for this information?"

Dr. Chamberlain took a little breath, and then said slowly, "Perhaps we could meet somewhere to discuss this?"

Meela leaned around Imhotep to catch a glimpse of the clock. "Meet me in the pub office in an hour."

"I think I'd prefer to meet with both of you."

She opened her mouth to protest, but Imhotep nodded readily.

"Alright," she said. "We'll be there."


	17. I Can't Get No

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song "Satisfaction" by the Rolling Stones__. Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**I Can't Get No**

Renee let out a defeated sigh as Beni slid off of her and rolled onto his back.

"Now if only you'd let me have a cigarette," he said. She snorted, staring blankly up at the patterns of sunlight on her ceiling.

"I don't care if you have a cigarette."

She could feel his smug, amused eyes, but didn't turn to look at him. She heard him lean over the side of the bed and retrieve his pack of cigarettes and lighter from the pocket of his jeans. She heard the click of the lighter and the sound of him sucking in the first breath, and the smell of the tobacco smoke made her mouth water a little. She'd done a very good job of quitting, and she hadn't even thought about having a cigarette in over a year. But between the dismal fact that she was about to become an unwed mother and the guilt of knowing she had, _yet again_, given in to Beni's wiles, she couldn't help but find the thought of having a cigarette tempting.

She supposed it was partially her own fault. Well, of course it was. But not in the usual way. She'd woken up and seen him there and felt him there, sound asleep with one arm slung over her body (which was probably coincidential, considering how often he jerked and rolled around in his sleep). And between the sunlight and the steady sound of his breathing, she couldn't help but think it was nice...sleeping next to the father of her child. Like they were a family, in a strange little way.

Except, of course, that he didn't know it yet.

But still. She'd liked waking up this way, and when he'd woken up shortly after her and started kissing her, she'd let him. And for a moment she'd imagined that maybe this could work out, with him. That maybe she wouldn't have to do this alone. But then it was over and he lit a cigarette and she remembered, all too clearly, who he really was.

He sat up and looked down at her, blowing clouds of smoke into the sunlight.

"What time is it?"

Renee shrugged, reaching over to her bedside table and glancing at her cell phone. "Like, nine."

He nodded. "Is your roommate gone?"

Renee nodded now, too. "Her class was at eight. And then she has to work."

"I am going to take a shower."

She sighed, sitting up as well. "Alright. I have some towels in the closet across from the bathroom. Mine are the aqua ones. Don't use Evelyn's. Hers are cream."

He nodded absentmindedly, not really seeming to listen to her as he got out of the bed and slipped out the door. Renee took a deep breath and slowly let it out, glancing thoughtfully at the pack of cigarettes he'd left on the bedside table on his side of the bed. Shaking her head, she pulled herself from the sheets and slipped her robe over her shoulders.

For the first time ever this morning, she set her alarm for four o'clock and called in sick at the hospital. She had a ton of PTO, so she figured she might as well use it. And she knew she _had_ to tell Beni about the pregnancy today. She should have told him last night, only she was so incredibly fatigued that the thought of fighting through that exhausting conversation was more than she could bear.

She left her room and walked into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. She needed to call her OBGYN today, too, and schedule an appointment. It was so bizarre to think about, and she'd kind of put it out of her mind over the weekend, since she couldn't call the clinic then anyway...

Renee sucked in a little breath. She knew what Beni would say when she told him, and she'd been trying to formulate the proper response since she'd found out. _Why don't you just get rid of it?_ Evelyn would ask that, too, though probably in a much more polite way. Even Rick was probably wondering, though she knew he'd understand.

Her whole life, she'd never known a single person she was actually related to. She'd never met her parents or her grandparents or any of the relatives she likely had out there somewhere. When she had to fill out family history reports for her health records, she left every box blank. How was she to know if anyone in her family had diabetes or breast cancer or a history of heart disease? As it was, she couldn't even tell where her brown eyes and wavy hair came from.

But here, suddenly, for the first time ever, she had the opportunity to know someone she was connected to by blood. She was pregnant with a child - her own child. How could she destroy that? How could she send this person away when he or she might be the only member of her family she ever gets to know? She couldn't end the pregnancy. And she certainly couldn't place it up for adoption. How could she abandon it when she was finally no longer alone in the world?

The thoughts filling her head made her throat tighten, and she suddenly wanted to cry. She shook her head and tried to focus on something else. Evelyn had left the paper on the kitchen table. She glanced at the headline and frowned. So the mayor was dead. How odd -

A knock on the door caught her off guard. She hurried across the room and peered through the peephole, meeting Rick's distorted face in the glass. Renee bit her lip, glancing back towards the bathroom. Against her better judgment, she unlocked the door and opened it a crack.

"Hey," she said, her voice a little cold.

"Hey."

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

He sighed. "Believe it or not, I'm looking for Beni."

Renee rose an eyebrow. "And you thought he might be here?"

Rick snorted. "No, I just thought you might know where he is."

She sighed and let him in, closing the door behind him.

"Welll, believe it or not," she said, mimicking him, "he_ is_ here."

Rick's eyes dropped to her robe before glancing back up into her eyes. She quickly glanced away, turning around and walking into the kitchen. He followed her.

"Do you want some coffee?" she asked without looking back at him.

"Uh, sure."

"I think it's almost done perking," she said, crossing over to the refridgerator. "Can I make you some eggs or something?"

"Nah, I already ate. Go ahead and make some for yourself, though."

Renee shook her head, but pulled out the carton of eggs and a stick of butter. "No, everything makes me nauseous before noon."

She pulled a skillet out of the cupboard and lit the burner. She could feel his curious stare.

"So who're the eggs for?"

She turned around and looked at him, and his eyebrows rose incredulously.

"So have you told him yet?"

Renee let out a sigh, and sheepishly shook her head. Rick grunted.

"He has all kinds of surprises coming at him today."

She turned away from the eggs and looked at him curiously. She was about to ask what that meant when the bathroom door opened. Beni took one step out of the bathroom, wearing only a cream bathtowel, before noticing Rick and letting out a whiny sigh. He started to take a step back into the bathroom, but Rick's commanding gaze stopped him in his track.

"I already saw you."

Beni let out a nervous laugh, glancing between Rick and Renee shiftily. He inched into the room, keeping as far from Rick as possible.

"Oh, Rick, how very good to see you again!" he said, his voice even higher than usual. "I was so worried!"

"Uh-huh," Rick muttered, standing up to pour himself a cup of coffee. Beni jumped back a little.

"Well, I guess I will just go and get dressed, then - "

"Sit down," Rick said darkly.

Beni gulped. "Okay."

He skirted around the table and took the seat opposite Rick. He was so anxious that the sight of breakfast couldn't even brighten his mood. Renee handed him a cup of coffee before fixing her own, leaning against the counter quietly.

"Well how about this," Beni said in his nervous whine. "All of us together again. Like a family."

Rick grunted. "Some of us moreso than others."

Renee shot him a look and took a sip of her coffee.

"You seem agitated, O'Conell," Beni said cautiously. Rick glanced up and met Renee's eyes.

"Do you want to go first?"

She ran her tongue over her lips and took another sip of coffee before nodding. Beni looked up at her expectantly, and she took a deep breath.

"I'm pregnant," she said. Something inside her relaxed, even though she'd spent so much time dreading his reaction. He let out a nervous laugh, turning his shifty eyes between her and Rick.

"Oh," he said, "congratulations - to both of you, of course."

Rick snorted. "Congratulations to both of _you,"_ he said sarcastically.

Beni gulped, forcing a few wheezy chortles. "I don't know what you mean by that, O'Connell. Dez and I would never - _have never - "_

"It's yours," Renee cut in bluntly.

Beni grumbled a few Hungarian curses. He sat there tensely, his eyes flitting up to Renee with betrayed, accusatory glances, but he was much too afraid of O'Connell to say anything. He glared down at his eggs for a moment before the gravity of the matter got the best of him.

"So you're going to keep it, then?"

Renee glanced at her feet and nodded. "Yeah."

Beni let out a whining sigh. "Are you sure? What with your - your school and all of that?"

She met his eyes seriously. "I'm sure."

He groaned. "Oh, come on. What do you want to have a baby for, anyway?"

Renee took a little breath, her whole body tightening with tension.

"I'm keeping it," she snapped. "I don't care if you want to be around or not, but it's yours."

Beni leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He glared irritably at the table, muttering more to himself than to her, "Why couldn't you just be on the pill like everybody else?"

"Oh, shut up," she said, setting her coffee down on the counter loudly. "I knew you were going to do this. I knew you were going to make it sound like it's all my fault!"

Beni sat up and met her glare evenly. "Well, it is! You could have said no because of your stupid boyfriend! And you could still get an abortion like every other college girl in the world!"

Renee closed the distance between them and slapped him hard on his face. He started to get up, his fists balled, but Rick reached across the table and pulled him forcefully back into his seat.

He turned his irritated glare to Rick, though his anger lost some intensity when he met the cool eyes of the much bigger man.

"So what did you come here for?" he asked bitterly.

Rick gave him a sarcastic smile. "I'm just looking for a friend of yours, named Meela."

Beni groaned loudly. "Oh, shit."


	18. Lonely Rivers Flow to the Sea

**_Author's Note. _**_So I apologize for the sudden cease in updates for days on end. Busy + writer's block + Pinterest obsession = no updates. But worry not! I have the next chapter! It's sort of short, but sweet, I think._

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from one of my favorite songs ever, "Unchained Melody" by the Righteous Brothers (though I think Elvis wrote it...)__. Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**Lonely Rivers Flow to the Sea**

"Megan?"

She turned towards the sound of the familiar voice, startled from her concentration. She did her best to hide the way her face must have fell in a mix of horror and surprise. Oh, God, of all the mornings to run into Ardeth Bay...She had about a million errands to run, and she'd woken up late to the sound of her phone ringing. It had been her father, asking if she'd mailed that article submission for him like he'd requested. She'd lied through her teeth and told him she had, and then jumped out of bed, thrown herself together, and grabbed the manila envelope that had been sitting on her kitchen table for the past four days.

She'd done well to sweep on mascara and a little tinted lip balm, pulled her unwashed hair into a messy bun that she_ hoped_ looked stylish, and slipped on the first Target sundress she caught sight of. Then she ran threw the Starbucks drive-thru because she had to pull herself together and at least appear to be an adult human being.

So, frankly, after the embarrassing tipsy pass she'd made at the FBI agent a few nights ago, she was hardly in the mood to see him looking the way that she did.

She forced her best smile, inwardly wracking her mind to remember if she brushed her teeth. "Hey! Fancy seeing you here."

He chuckled. God, why did it have to be so effortlessly easy for some men to always look handsome?

"Yes. I had some business to take care of. You've probably heard about the mayor by now."

Megan stared at him blankly. In her rush to get out the door, she hadn't even had a chance to check her e-mail, much less turn on the news or pull up the paper online. She shook her head sheepishly, and his eyebrows rose in surprise. Great. Now he probably thought she was an uniformed bimbo. A messy, uninformed bimbo.

"I've had a really hectic morning," she said lamely.

He nodded. "The mayor is dead. He fell down the stairs in his home."

Megan's eyebrows jerked up in shock. "Oh, my God."

Ardeth sighed. "It could possibly mean a lot of work for us."

Megan nodded her head. She questioned what the mayor's death could have to do with the FBI, but she figured he probably couldn't tell her, anyway. And she didn't want to make the situation any more awkward than it already was. She cleared her throat and took a sip of her latte, shifting her weight as she tried to come up with the least weird way to leave his presence. She started to say something about all of her errands, but he interrupted her suddenly.

"Listen, about the gala - "

Her eyes widened, and she quickly shook her head. "Oh, no, don't - I totally get it. I'm sorry. I normally don't have that much to drink - I mean, I really don't drink at all, and - "

The look in his dark eyes halted her. He looked at her steadily for a moment before saying quietly, "No, I am sorry. I was just taken off guard."

Megan's body tightened uncomfortably, and she glanced at her feet in embarrassment.

"But I...would very much like to have your number, if you are still willing to give it to me."

Her eyes darted up, and she was suprised to see the sheepish smile on his face. He scratched the back of his neck.

"I am sorry," he said quickly. "I have not done this in a long time."

Megan gave him a smile, slipping her hand into her purse and digging out a business card.

"This has my office number, but I'm actually out of the office for the next couple weeks," she said, scrounging through the bag for a pen. "Maybe it's weird, but I went ahead and kept my vacation time. I already worked through Thanksgiving and Christmas, so I figured I might as well take it, even if it's not to go on a honeymoon anymore..."

She finally snatched a pen from the bag and scribbled her cell phone number down on the back of the card before handing it to him. He smiled at it quietly before slipping it into his pocket.

"I don't suppose you have had breakfast yet?"

Megan tried to hide her surprise, but Ardeth clearly notice. He winced with embarrassment.

"Forgive me. As I said, it's been a while - "

"I haven't had breakfast," she said quickly. "But there's a Polish bakery across the street."

Ardeth's brow furrowed in curiosity, and he nodded his head. "That would be nice."

Megan bit back a smile. "Have you had kolache before?"

He raised a skeptic eyebrow. "Does it also have liver in it?"

She laughed and shook her head, taking an uncertain step in the direction of the door. He gave her a quiet smile, placing a gentle hand on her back as they walked together out of the building.

A strange feeling was singing through Megan's whole body. She knew it was much too soon to be going on a date with anyone. Even if Bernard hadn't been shot and she'd had the opportunity to break off the engagement, she still should be giving herself some time before dating again. If anyone saw her out with her deceased fiance's handsome boss, she'd have a lot of explaining to do. But something about that thought gave her a thrill. She knew she_ shouldn't_ be going out with Ardeth, but it was only breakfast. And only because they'd ran into each other. And...and she didn't even look that good, either. So it didn't_ really_ count as a date, right?

He glanced at her in the sunlight, and she met his deep eyes. Her breath caught in her throat, and she noticed the nervous way his Adam's apple jerked before turning his attention to the busy street they would be crossing. She felt a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and she tried to push it away, but she couldn't.


	19. Coldest Story Ever Told

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song, "Heartless" by Kanye West. __Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**Coldest Story Ever Told**

Dr. Chamberlain sat on the couch, his back ramrod straight, with a scotch (neat, of course) in his hand. Meela wanted to roll her eyes at him. Even when he was smug and pleased with himself, he still looked stiff as a board. How had he managed to get married at all? Meela had seen his daughter, because she made a point to know such things about the people they conducted business with, and she was surprisingly attractive. His wife was long dead, and Meela struggled to picture the beautiful woman he'd somehow coerced into marrying him. The man was dull and tense and nauseatingly self-important. But he_ had_ gotten married, and he had a daughter, who must be his because Meela couldn't imagine him claiming someone else's, and he certainly wouldn't adopt. As cold as he was, it was impossible to imagine him_ wanting_ a child badly enough to pay for one.

The professor brought the drink to his thin, strained lips and took a sip, something like a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He glanced between the two of them carefully.

"Well. No need to drag this out," he said, leaning back just a little in his seat.

Imhotep nodded. "What is it you would like in exchange for the information you have for me?"

Dr. Chamberlain stared at him steadily. He didn't even bother to flick his eyes in Meela's direction now that he had Imhotep sitting before him. Meela sighed and did her best not to be irritated with this obvious fact.

"I would like thirty million dollars."

Imhotep nodded, his eyes unblinking. "That can easily be arranged."

Dr. Chamberlain took another sip of his drink. "And I would like very much to permanently leave the country."

Meela frowned in surprise. "Really?"

He glanced at her for a mere moment before quickly returning his attention to Imhotep.

"I would like for you to arrange a fatal accident, have me pronounced dead, and make all the necessary arrangements so that I might become a citizen of Egypt."

Imhotep leaned back in his chair, a strange look passing through his eyes before he nodded slowly.

"You know, it is dreadfully hot in Egypt."

Dr. Chamberlain scoffed, and took another sip from his scotch. With a stiff shrug, he said, "It has always been a dream of mine to spend my years studying and excavating."

"And your daughter?" Meela asked evenly.

He met her eyes and held them now, staring back at her for a moment with equal coolness.

"She'll do just as well without me."

Meela shrugged, glancing at Imhotep. He met her gaze briefly before clearing his throat and looking at Dr. Chamberlain again.

"It's surprising to me, a man of your reputation, who's already spent the first half of his life working to cultivate academic acclaim... Why would you want to start over now?"

The professor met his eyes with a cold, unreadable expression. "I don't mean to be rude, of course, but I'm not sure what business that is of yours."

Imhotep only held up his hands. "Yes, of course. You are right."

Dr. Chamberlain sighed, glancing at his watch as he brought his drink to his lips.

"Now I would like that information," Imhotep said.

The professor nodded and reached into the pocket of his smoking jacket. Even his attire annoyed Meela. The man apparently still thought it was 1923, and dressed accordingly. She knew professors were given to outdated styles, almost as a rule, but honestly. He looked even more ridiculous, dressed with foppish details no grown man wore anymore, with a face too stoic and grim to suggest that he might be doing it ironically.

She watched him pull out a thin, leather-bound notebook and carefully tear a page. He held it out to Imhotep, who took it readily.

"His neice is a student of mine. Her name is Evelyn Carnahan. And his nephew is her older brother, Jonathan Carnahan."

Meela's brow furrowed curiously at the mention of that name.

"The DA?"

Dr. Chamberlain didn't even bother to look at her. He was watching as Imhotep studied the page, fighting back a smirk as his hand brushed over the ink.

"Did he know about them?" he asked quietly.

Dr. Chamberlain shook his head. "No. That's actually the very page I was going to give to him."

Imhotep nodded, slowly looking up at the professor again. He stood up, and Dr. Chamberlain quickly followed suit, taking his outstretched hand and shaking it.

"Meela will take care of your requested arrangements," Imhotep said easily, as if the professor had requested the lightest of trifles. She gave him a small smile to keep herself from groaning. It wasn't that Dr. Chamberlain had requested anything impossible, or even that difficult. Under normal circumstances, she liked arranging these kinds of things. But she kind of hated the thought of having to put in all that effort for someone who didn't even respect her.

"You'll keep in contact with her now," he added pointedly. Dr. Chamberlain nodded, offering Meela a smug smile and a glance that suggested that he knew all there was to know about her now. Meela's teeth clenched behind her own forced smile. He could think what he liked. She was_ not_ Imhotep's gopher, and she was a great deal more important than that snooty professor would ever be.

She stood up and let Dr. Chamberlain out, breathing a grateful sigh as she closed the door behind him. She glanced back at Imhotep, who had returned to his seat in the large leather chair that faced into the room. She could see the top of his shaved head, and watched his hand move on the armrest thoughtfully.

"Have Lock take care of this," he said quietly.

Meela frowned. "Lock is in prison."

"No. I had him released this week."

She froze, her hand still gripping the door. Sucking in a little breath, she regained her composure and slipped as calmly as she could back to her seat in the chair next to him.

"You did not tell me you were going to do that."

He shrugged. "I wanted you to focus on Seti. I did not think you needed to trouble yourself with this agent, too."

Her brow furrowed curiously. "Agent? You mean Ardeth Bay?"

Imhotep nodded, reaching for his drink on the table, that had sat untouched during his conversation with Dr. Chamberlain. She watched him swallow a small sip, staring thoughtfully at the rug. Meela's heart was pounding in her chest. Lock out of prison...and on a mission from Imhotep, no less. How was she supposed to dispose of him now?

She felt Imhotep's eyes flick to her, and felt his curious frown as he studied her face.

"I told you not to worry about him," he said, putting his hand over hers. She felt his fingers squeeze hers reassuringly, and her insides went cold. "So don't look so worried, my dear."


	20. The Terror of Knowing

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song, "Under Pressure" by David Bowie and Queen. __Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**The Terror of Knowing What the World is About**

Ardeth glanced down, his throat tightening nervously. He quickly turned his attention to the crosswalk sign, keeping a protective hand on Megan's elbow as he waited for the pedestrian light to flash. The light changed. They started forward. And then he blinked.

He heard the tires screetch to a halt, and he jerked Megan behind him instinctively. He stumbled back as the driver's door swung back hard on their hinges and a big, dark man leaned forward. His eyes widened, and he almost whispered, "Lock." Ardeth was quickly distracted from the familiarity of his cruel face, though, by the long, black barrel of the shotgun clenched in his expert grip. Ardeth's eyes widened, and he ducked quickly, pulling Megan down beside him just as a bullet whizzed over their heads.

He didn't have a moment to spare. Her fearful eyes were watching him; her hand trembled in his, but there was no time to wait and cower. He scrambled to his feet and pulled her up, too, sprinting down the length of the car, down the busy street. He knew the sharp, perpendicular angle would force their attacker to move and adjust his aim, and they needed that kind of time. They jogged a little ways past the car into the busy street, but Lock threw the car into reverse and swerved towards them. Ardeth heard Megan gasp as he yanked her out of the street and nearly threw her to the ground behind a car parallel-parked next to the courthouse. The shotgun boomed, and the glass in the car window above them shattered. He pulled her close and tried to shield her from the splinters of glass.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Ardeth shook his head. "I don't know."

He took her by the wrist and they ran, hunched over, across the lawn of the courthouse. She seemed confused as he jerked her in one direction, then the next, zigzagging across the grass as bullets whizzed by, dangerously close. He pulled her past the main entrance and turned the sharp corner of the building. She shot him a surprised look, but didn't say anything as they ran the length of the building and rounded to the back. Ardeth pointed to the back entrance, and she gladly jogged beside him up to it.

"Get inside," he managed between ragged breaths. She watched him uncertainly.

"What about you?" she whispered, swallowing hard.

Ardeth shook his head. "I am going to my car."

Megan's eyes widened. "But what if he's after you?"

He glanced down, his hand tightening on her wrist. "I think he is after me."

"I can't," she took a deep breath. "I can't leave you here alone."

Ardeth shook his head quickly. "I am fine. Get inside - "

"No," she said, slipping her wrist from his hand. "You wouldn't make a man go inside, and you're not going to make me."

Ardeth didn't have an opportunity to argue with her; Lock had taken his car around the block and just pulled it to a squealing stop across from them. Without a second thought, Ardeth pulled Megan down again, crouching against a pillar as a bullet struck the corner above them, sending a thread of dust snowing down.

"My God, where are the police?" Megan hissed, trying to control the shaking of her voice.

Ardeth snorted. "Thank Allah for the HPD."

He took a deep breath, glancing across the length of the courthouse lawn, to the back parking lot and his SUV parked far, far away. Running his tongue over his lips, he turned and met Megan's nervous green eyes.

"My car is in the parking lot. There is no cover between here and there. Do you understand?"

She glanced at him suspiciously, but quickly nodded.

Ardeth swallowed hard. "We need to create cover, then. Do you have anything in your purse? An aerosol can? Like hairspray?"

Megan pursed her lips thoughtfully, pulling her purse from her shoulders with nervous hands and peering inside. Another bullet struck the pillar, causing her to jump and let out a little cry. He looked at her, and she met his eyes evenly before returning to the contents of her purse.

"Umm...I have an old can of pepper spray..."

Ardeth sighed and held out his hand. Most pepper spray was water-based, and therefore inflammable. But if her can was old...

He turned to the back and scanned the ingredients, breathing a grateful sigh when he saw it was oil-based, after all. He reached into his pocket for a box of matches and then turned the hem of his suit jacket up, tugging at the seam. Megan watched his first few unsuccessful tries before handing him a pair of tweezers from her purse. He pulled a thread loose and got to work, trying not to enjoy Megan's awestruck gaze as he rigged the string about the can.

"What are you, MacGuyver?" she muttered, though her voice shook a little. "Do they teach you that in FBI training?"

Ardeth shook his head, striking the match against the pillar and starting the flame down the string. "This I learned a long time ago."

He pulled himself carefully to his feet, keeping his back flat against the pillar. Taking a deep breath, he darted just outside the pillar and hurled the flaming makeshift bomb at Lock's car. It landed a few feet from the car, and Ardeth gripped Megan's hand. He waited for the first crack of noise before the explosive boom, and then he tore off across the lawn, dragging Megan behind him.

He knew it wouldn't be a large explosion - just enough to hopefully divert Lock's attention and disorient him long enough to escape. As their feet pounded the pavement of the parking lot, his SUV gratefully just within reach, he heard tires screetching again, and glanced up to see Lock's car peeling off down the street at a clipping speed. He breathed a small sigh but didn't slow down until they reached his SUV. His hand shook, just a little, as he reached into his pocket for the keys and unlocked it.

He could feel Megan's gaze on him as he opened the car door for her and she slipped inside. He met her eyes.

Her dress was wrinkled and the bun knotted on top of her head had slipped to the side a little; mascara was smeared under her eyes, but she wasn't crying and clearly hadn't been. She breathed a little sigh and got into the car, leaning against the seat gratefully. Her legs shook a little, and Ardeth's heart dropped guiltily as he closed the door. With a sigh, he trudged around to the driver's side of the car.

What in the world had just happened?

He slid into his seat and took a deep breath, his hands flexing on the steering wheel for a moment as he attempted to catch his breath and calm his racing heart. Megan stared at the dashboard numbly, her expression unreadable.

"Where do you live?" he asked quietly.

She swallowed hard. "On Cairo Street."

He nodded, and they drove in silence through the eerily normal streets. Cairo Street was only a few blocks away from the courthouse, a long, winding road made up of proud old estates. It was still generally regarded as an "old money" neighborhood, and Ardeth was a little surprised to hear Megan lived here. When she pointed out the house, though, it made a little more sense.

Nestled between an intricate Queen Anne and a brick-faced, columned colonial, was a small, humble cottage, styled somewhat similarly to the Queen Anne. Megan had referred to it as a "carriage house" as she indicated it sitting there, surrounded by a clipped green lawn and blooming flowerbeds.

She glanced up at him, turning his attention away from the house.

"Do you want to come in?"

Ardeth started to shake his head, but she didn't give him a chance to protest.

"That man could be waiting for you at your house."

Ardeth sighed. "If he's waiting now, he will be waiting whenever I leave your house."

Megan glanced down at her hands. "Maybe not...Just, I'd feel better if you stayed. Just a few hours."

He was going to decline her offer, but when he met her eyes, he found he couldn't. Her gaze was so full of some fearful emotion, and he just couldn't bring himself to leave her like this. He nodded slowly, putting the car back into drive and pulling into her driveway. He parked and got out of the car slowly, his legs shaking as he stood up. His mind still felt numb from the strange events of that morning, frozen against the thousands of questions that he knew lied in wait. But his body was trembling with tension; his legs and back and arms ached in a way they never did after the gym.

He followed her to her door and waited as she dug out her keys, all the while wishing he could just make sense of something. Of anything. She opened the door and let him inside, and he was only vaguely aware of the security alarm beeping until she turned it off. She locked the door and their eyes met.

He took a little breath, and she closed the space between them and kissed him. The soft touch of her lips was surprising, and when she just as suddenly stepped away, he felt both relief and longing.

"I'm sorry," she whispered quickly, turning away from him to flick on a light. "I'm sorry."

Ardeth wasn't sure what to say. No one had kissed him since his wife died, and up until that very moment, he'd never much cared to be kissed again. But feeling her lips, feeling a woman so close again, made everything inside his already shaking and confused body tighten with longing.

He wasn't a rash or impulsive man by nature, but nothing was making any sense. The mayor was dead and Lock was trying to kill him and Keisha was gone and Agent Burns was gone and he felt like he was waiting for the world to end. His mind struggled to work through the fog of having just narrowly escaped death, and Megan was glancing at him with her nervous, embarrassed eyes, and he just couldn't handle the tension built up inside him any longer.

He took her wrist more forcefully than he meant to and pulled her against him. She didn't stop him as he kissed her, and her arms wrapped around his neck as the kiss became deeper. He reached a hand up to her face and twisted his fingers in the strands of hair that had tugged loose of her bun. He heard her let out a little moan in the back of her throat, and he couldn't stop himself. His hand slid down her shoulder, pushing the strap of her dress off. She gasped a little, and his eyes snapped open, meeting hers. She gave him a little nod and kissed him again, her hands reaching gently up to push the straps of the dress off of her shoulders and let the loose fabric slide to the floor.

In the back of his mind, he knew this was a sin, but he was so overwhelmed by all the strange and terrible emotions built up inside him, having piled one on top of the other in the years since Keisha died and left him alone to shoulder his pains and challenges. He was so overwhelmed. He was suffocating under the weight of his responsibilities and his grueling search for Imhotep and the connections of the Scarab Society. And now his life was in danger. And he was so utterly, hopelessly alone.

Except for Megan, now, here, and her soft lips and smooth skin and quiet, beautiful moans. She kissed his lips and his neck and the sides of his face; her fingers curled in his hair, and for the moment, everything felt strangely calm.

* * *

_So I have to apologize for asking you to suspend your disbelief enough to accept that Ardeth rigged a bomb out of a can of mace, a string, and a match...I don't know how to make bombs and I'm wary of the sites that explain how in any great detail. So there you go. Action-movie style unbelievable science FTW!_


	21. Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

**_Author's Note. _**_I have to apologize. I am so writer's blocked. Seriously. I even read through this whole story the other night trying to amp up some creativity. After the previous explosive (ha, pun) chapter, I was just like..."welp, now I got nothing." But anyway, here's something to prove I haven't abandoned the story!_

**_Disclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song, "Waking Up in Vegas" by Katy Perry. __Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**Shut Up and Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is**

Beni had had better days.

As he sat in Destiny's kitchen, chilled from the air conditioning because he was still only wearing a towel, he couldn't help the look of dark distaste coloring his features. Rick leaned in the corner across the room, breathing an impatient sigh with his cell phone to his ear. Whoever he was trying to get a hold of wasn't picking up. Dez had taken the opportunity to retreat into her bedroom and clean up for the day; a part of him wished she was out here to protect him from O'Connell, and another part of him never wanted to see her again. What was the matter with her, getting pregnant? Well, whatever - as irritated as he was, he supposed he was more annoyed with her insistence at keeping it. He reached for his cup of coffee and took a sip, but it was already too cold. He frowned and thought bitterly to himself that Destiny better know it would be a cold day in hell before she got any child support out of_ him._

Grumbling a sigh, he glanced over at O'Connell again, his anxiety only slightly relieved as the phone rang and rang in his ear. Now Rick wanted him to take him to Meela. Of course he did. He looked Rick over and just wanted to snicker. He thought he was a big hero now, working with some FBI agent. A real big man. He'd always thought that about himself. He'd stayed in prison those extra months to be a hero. When they were young, he'd pushed over kids at the playground who said Beni talked funny to be a hero. Even when he was robbing a bank, he had to be Robin Hood about it. It was almost nauseating, the way he strutted around like he was better than Beni. Hell, better than Destiny. He obviously thought so, the way he self-righteously patted her shoulder and suggested she go and get ready. He'd take care of her, the schmuck. He was too good _not_ to, even though he was apparently too good to go and do something like knock her up in the first place.

Just then, the door to Destiny's room opened and she slipped out. She looked good in shorts and a loose, fluttery top. She bent down to adjust her sandal, and he caught a glimpse down her neckline. She had a terrific figure, and her bustline already looked bigger than what he remembered. But still. It wouldn't be long until she was all...swollen and waddling. He grimaced a little and glanced away from her.

"Any luck?" she asked.

Beni's head jerked up, and he saw that she was looking at O'Connell. Rick shook his head and hung up the phone.

"I'll try him in a minute."

"Great," Beni muttered. "Do I have to keep waiting in this towel until he answers?"

Rick's brow furrowed as he looked at him curiously, as if just now realizing that Beni was still sitting there mostly naked. "You're not dressed yet?"

"No," he retorted. "You made me sit down as soon as I got out of the shower."

Rick sighed. "Well go get dressed. I can't believe you need me to tell you that."

Beni rolled his eyes, muttering a few choice words in Hungarian as he pulled himself to his feet. He trudged into Destiny's bedroom, and much to his annoyance, she followed him. He gave her a look as she sat down on the bed, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Look...I know you're angry about this."

Beni snorted, picking his clothes up from off of the floor.

"I just...I can't get rid of it. You can't ask me to do that."

"Oh, I know," he said darkly, pulling his underwear up to his hips. "It is_ all_ the woman's decision."

Destiny let out a long sigh. He could feel her staring at him.

"I'm not asking anything from you, you know."

Beni scoffed. "Not yet."

She was quiet a long time, and when he looked over at her, he realized she'd been waiting to look him in the eye to tell him:

"Not ever."

Beni shook his head, eyeing her skeptically. "We will see."

Destiny met his gaze evenly, and her voice was certain and cool. "You know, I didn't want a baby with you, either."

They stared at each other for a moment. Beni wasn't sure what to say. There was something strangely painful about her tone, and he didn't like it. He let out a long sigh and pulled her shirt over his head.

"Oh, of course you don't. You're just mad that it is not O'Connell's baby, so that you could be your own little family."

Destiny sighed loudly, and he didn't have to look at her to know she was rolling her eyes. "Beni - "

He glanced up at her bitterly. "Well, it is true. That is all you ever wanted. To get rid of me."

She stood up and crossed over to him, stopping his hands as they finished buttoning his pants. Her fingers gripped around his.

"That's not true. And I didn't mean it like that."

He tried to pull his hands out of her grip, but she wouldn't let him.

"We're a family," she said quietly. "I'm just saying...I'm not forcing any of this responsibility on you. I know you don't want it."

Beni grumbled a sigh, finally succeeding in pulling his hands out of her grasp. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

"Do what you want," he muttered. "It is not as if what I think matters."

She let out an exasperated sigh and started to say something, but O'Connell's voice interrupted them.

"Hey, you want me to get that?"

Destiny frowned. "Get what?"

"The door," his voice came again.

She glanced at Beni curiously, and shrugged. "Yeah, that's o - "

A loud, cracking sound interrupted her, and she let out a little cry. Before she had a second to react, the sound of gunshots errupted through the apartment.


	22. I Keep a Close Watch

**_Author's Note. _**_So I'm sorry about all these short chapters lately. But I'm feeling a surge! Am I on the brink of inspiration? Let's hope. And maybe next chapter won't take more than 4 minutes to read. Enjoy!_

**_D_****_isclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song, "I Walk the Line" by Johnny Cash. __Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**I Keep a Close Watch on This Heart of Mine**

"Do you mind if I borrow your bathroom?"

Megan shook her head, taking a deep breath to try and slow the beating of her heart. God, what had she done? What had she _just_ done? Her hands felt numb as she pulled her dress back on. She swallowed hard, directing her shaking feet in the direction of her kitchen. Mechanically, she found a glass and got herself some water, but she didn't bring the cup to her lips.

This was crazy. She was crazy.

Her stomach twisted and turned with something close to regret, though she couldn't quite bring herself to feel it. She_ didn't_ regret sleeping with Ardeth, even if it was inconceivably stupid. Her legs shook a little with the memory. She hadn't experienced feelings remotely close to that with Bernard...not ever. She supposed that was partially because Bernard had never had to save her life from a gunman.

She _had_ loved Bernard. She knew she had. He was safe and sweet and easy-going, and a nice break from the string of exciting jerks she'd dated up until him. She'd felt at home with him. He was just so...at peace with who he was and who she was, and he never let her forget how lucky he was to have her. But as the months wore on and she booked caterers and a banquet hall and made arrangements with an officiant, she began to feel nervous, anxious. Thoughts of the wedding made her sick.

She never_ had_ confirmed floral arrangements.

Somewhere deep inside her, she'd known Bernard wasn't for her. He was sweet and she loved him, but she wasn't in love with him. At first, she'd thought loving him was enough. She'd told herself that it was okay that she didn't miss him throughout the day. That sex didn't have to be amazing. That sitting together on the couch watching television was still a date. And maybe...with the right person, those things would still be true. But Bernard wasn't the right person.

She told herself she needed a nobody. She needed Bernard - same, safe, quiet, tag-along Bernard. She needed a follower to balance out her headstrong qualities. But after a while, she started to feel...dull. Tired. Even...dead.

This afternoon, though, between the gunshots and the fear and the adrenaline and the crazy, sudden tryst with Ardeth in her foyer...she felt alive. Inexplicably, stupidly alive. She didn't know what to do.

She raised her glass to her lips and took a long sip, the cold water a welcome relief. Sucking in a deep breath, she crossed the room and walked down the hall to her bathroom. Her hand shook a little as she curled it into a fist and knocked.

"I'm sorry, I just want to, um - "

The door swung open, and Ardeth held out an arm, side-stepping her easily. But she was very quickly distracted by a new set of marks on his face.

"Are those tattoos?"

He glanced down awkwardly, his shoulders raising in a stiff shrug. "I keep them covered, but my face was so sweaty...I had to wash it."

If he'd been anyone else, Megan would have thought he was blushing.

"Please," he said quickly. "Use your bathroom. It is rude of me to spend so much time."

She swallowed hard, trying desperately to catch his gaze, but he wouldn't look at her. She slipped past him, her whole body tightening uncomfortably, and closed the door.

Megan looked at herself in the mirror and grimaced a little. Sweat had streaked mascara under her eyes, and her bun was crooked and stringy. With a sigh, she wet a handtowel and wiped all of her make-up away before untwisting her hair from its mess. She desperately wanted to take a shower.

Before she could go searching for her brush, she heard a quiet tap on the door. She turned around and opened it, meeting Ardeth's dark eyes head-on.

"I would like to apologize," he said, his voice sounding weary. "I do not usually...conduct myself this way."

Megan swallowed, shaking her head. "Oh, no, me either. Really."

He nodded, and the two of them fell into an awkward quiet. His gaze traveled over her face for a moment, and he almost smiled.

"You look nice without make-up."

She bit down on her lip and shrugged. "Thanks. You, too."

He reached a hand up to his cheek, meeting his reflection in the mirror with a heavy sigh.

"What do they mean?" Megan asked carefully. He met her gaze again.

"They are the symbols of my tribe," Ardeth said. "They say, 'protector of mankind.'"

She smiled. "Awfully big shoes to fill."

He snorted, glancing down at the floor. "You could say that."

"I have one, too."

A sheepish smirk twisted in the corner of his mouth, and he kept his eyes down. "Yes, I...saw it." His eyes flashed up to hers, and they almost looked playful. "Though I did not get to read it."

Megan felt almost giddy as she pulled the hem of her skirt up to reveal that stretch of skin just above her hip. She watched his eyes travel over the words.

" 'And miles to go before I sleep,' " he read aloud.

She nodded. "It's Robert Frost."

He started to shake his head, and she stared at him in surprise.

"I'm not familiar," he admitted finally.

Megan bit back a chuckle. "Did you not take freshman English or something?"

"No," he said. She found that a little mysterious, but she didn't want to press him. She cleared her throat.

"Well, it's...I actually can't remember the whole poem. But the part I like is:

The woods are lovely dark and deep,  
But I have promises to keep  
And miles to go before I sleep,  
And miles to go before I sleep."

He stared at her for a long time, and she was unable to look away from the depths of his endless eyes. She wasn't sure what to think, or feel, but she had an eerie tingling in her gut. As if for the first time, lost somewhere in his gaze, was the real meaning of the words she's had etched on her body when she was nineteen.

The space between them was so quiet that she could hear the vibrating of his phone in his pocket. He jumped, his gaze tearing away from her and the moment gone, shattered in tiny little pieces on the floor. He yanked the phone out and put it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Finally!" the other voice yelled loudly enough for Megan to hear.

Ardeth's brow furrowed in confusion. "Rick?"

"Uh, yeah," the voice came back, more than a little aggrevated. "Look, I'm at my girlfriend's and - we've got problems."


	23. Like a Complete Unknown

**_Author's Note. _**_So, it's sort of been forever since I updated. It's been crazy lately and I apologize! Hopefully I can get back on track soon. Regardless, here's the next chapter (finally)._

**_D_****_isclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song, "Like a Rolling Stone" by Bob Dylan. __Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**Like a Complete Unknown**

Rick took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. He stared down at the limp form on the floor blankly, completely uncertain and numb. Somewhere in the back of his mind, in the pit of his stomach, he could feel a grim creeping of dread. He knew he would feel it soon, that it would overtake him entirely. But right now, he could barely feel anything at all.

"Is he...?"

He glanced away and met Renee's wide dark eyes. Her mouth gaped with the want of a word she couldn't manage to say, and slowly, he nodded. She swallowed a loud gulp and dropped wearily onto the couch.

"Beni?" she called. Her voice sounded weak and shaky.

The door to her bedroom creaked open and he peered out with wild, nervous eyes. His gaze immediately dropped to the large, lifeless body on the floor.

"I guess I do not need to worry about him anymore."

Rick's head jerked up, and he met Beni's strangely amused gaze in surprise.

"You mean he came here after you?"

Beni shot him a glare. "Of course he was after me. He wanted to kill me for Baltus. You remember."

Renee let out a little scoff, her voice sounding more nervous than she probably intended. "If that's the case...then why was he so intent on shooting me?"

Rick glanced up, and his eyes locked with Renee's. They stared at each other in the frightening depths of this mystery while Beni muttered to himself in a language he knew they couldn't understand. Rick felt uneasy, and instinctively, his grip tightened on the gun that he hadn't set down yet. When the doorbell rang, his arm jerked up, levelling the barrel at the doorknob. When he glanced back at Renee, she looked scared, her face pale as she shifted her weight in place. Rick didn't lower his gun.

"Who's there?"

"O'Connell!" the familiar, accented voice came back. "It's me. Open up."

Rick's arm dropped, and he quickly crossed the room to the door. The back of his mind was buzzing with how to explain the dead criminal in Renee's dining room, but he pushed those thoughts away for now and flung open the door. Ardeth stood there with that woman from the courthouse. Rick found himself frowning in interest at the thick, black tattoos that covered his face. No wonder he wore make-up.

Ardeth was starting to say something, but was stopped midway by the woman's gasp. His eyes dropped to the form on the floor, and sighed.

"Lock," he said grimly.

Rick nodded. "Yep."

"He does not seem to be breathing."

"Uh," Rick scratched the back of his neck nervously, "not the last time we checked..."

Ardeth's face was masked by an unreadable expression. "Did you call 911?"

"He's dead," Renee's voice piped in suddenly. Ardeth's gaze jerked over to hers. "I'm a nurse...well, I'm going to be."

Ardeth turned his dark eyes back to Rick. "What happened here?"

Rick shrugged stiffly. "He just...came in, guns blazing."

"And you shot him. Dead."

Ardeth's tone was so gruff and irritated that he didn't even raise the statement to a question. Rick felt his body tensing, and had to hold himself back from raising his voice.

"Uh, _yeah._ Did you miss the 'guns blazing' part?"

The FBI agent let out a grumbling sigh and muttered something in another language that made Beni chuckle. His glare jerked up in surprise, and he met Beni's gaze curiously for a moment before turning his attention back to Rick.

"How do you expect me to explain this to the Bureau?"

Rick sighed loudly. "Look, he broke in. He was firing a gun."

"You're on parole," Ardeth retorted. "Where did you even get a gun?"

Rick couldn't hold back a scoff. "Come on. Anybody can get a gun."

Ardeth started to say something, but Rick interrupted him, "Look, he stormed into her room and drug her out. What else was I supposed to do?"

The agent breathed a weary sigh, shaking his head. But his attention was drawn away by the woman who had come with him. She took a few uncertain steps closer to the body, staring down at the face blankly.

"Isn't this the man...?" she said, almost in a whisper. She glanced up, staring into Ardeth's eyes for a moment. "This is the man..."

He nodded silently, sucking in a deep breath.

"What is he doing out of prison?" Beni's grating whine seemed to make Ardeth jump, his muscles tensing a little at the sound of his voice. He quickly regained his composure and shook his head.

"I do not know."

"He came here to kill me," Beni went on, scanning the room with wide, pathetic eyes.

Renee let out a strange, gasping noise that drew the attention of everyone in the room. She swallowed hard, looking surprised by all of the gazes suddenly focused on her. She looked at Rick when she said, almost too quietly to be heard:

"He _started_ shooting at me, though."

Ardeth's brow furrowed curiously. "At you?"

She nodded, wrapping her arms around her body. She looked like she was cold, even though the small room was warm with all of the people in it, and Rick found himself wanting to hold her. But that time was done. Just as the bitter thought was resurfacing in his head, Beni's wheezing voice piped in with it:

"Maybe because you got yourself knocked up with my child."

Renee's face contorted with a mixture of shock and anger and embarrassment; her cheeks flushed and her eyes narrowed, and her voice actually shook when she finally found the words:

"How would he know that? How would _anyone_ know that?"

Ardeth took a few steps closer to Renee, catching her eye and drawing her away from Beni for a moment. "Do you live here alone? Is there anyone he might have mistaken you for?"

Rick's stomach tightened with a strange feeling, like a premonition. He didn't know why, but he found himself thinking that Lock hadn't come after Renee at all. And if he hadn't come here to shoot Renee, then...

"Evelyn," she said, her expression confused. "I...I have a roommate, Evelyn..."

"I told you," Beni cut in, whinier than ever. "He was here for me..."

Rick shook his head. "I don't think he was."

Beni started to protest, but was interrupted by the jingling of the lock. Everyone jumped at the noise, staring anxiously as the door swung open and Evelyn slipped in. She frowned at all of the faces, not yet noticing the body on the floor.

"What's all this about?"


	24. A Little Less Conversation

**_Author's Note. _**_I bet you thought I'd abandoned you all. Well, ha, here we have another chapter. And it's only been...kind of an eternity, right?_

**_D_****_isclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song, "A Little Less Conversation" by Elvis Presley. __Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**A Little Less Conversation  
_(A Little More Action)_**

"I'm sorry, but that's absolutely ridiculous. Why would anyone be coming after me?" Evelyn huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. She glared impatiently at Ardeth, refusing to glance down at the hulking, lifeless form on her floor.

"Have you recently made any enemies?" he asked, his tone rote. He'd asked these same questions to so many people before.

"No," she said, waving her hand dismissively.

"Do you have any outstanding debts to people who could do you harm?"

"No! Honestly, this is as shocking to me as it is - "

"Does your brother?" Ardeth's question caught Evelyn in the middle of her sentence, and she gasped back the words she was about to say. Her face became pale, and she swallowed hard.

"I...I don't know," she said quietly, glancing at her feet. "Jonathan does like to find his fun in...less than reputable places. But surely that's not what this is about. This has to be some kind of misunderstanding!"

Ardeth met her gaze evenly. "This man had two addresses in his cell phone. One of them was to this apartment. The other, as you confirmed, was your brother's. I am sorry, but this was no misunderstanding. You and your brother are in very real danger. So if you have any idea why he might have come after you, no matter how strange or ridiculous, please tell me."

Evelyn shook her head, a dazed look on her face. Without a word, she began digging through her purse with shaking fingers, finally finding her cell phone. Ardeth opened his mouth to question her, but Rick stopped him with a look. She dialed a number in the silence and held the phone up to her ear. She stood there, frozen and stiff until the voice on the other end answered. Her eyes closed, and she breathed a relieved sigh.

"Jonathan. Thank God."

She slipped over to the other end of the room and talked to her brother in a quiet murmur.

Rick turned his attention to Beni, skulking in the corner with a cigarette.

"Do you know anything about this?"

His brother let out a nervous, high-pitched laugh. "Oh, come on, what would I know about it?"

"You've got that stupid tattoo," Renee muttered from the couch. She didn't have to look up to know he was glaring at her.

"I don't know anything!" Beni whined.

Ardeth stared at him with the hard edge of his unreadable eyes. "You have not heard any reason why Lock was sent after the Carnahans?"

Evelyn glanced up from her phone conversation, and Beni groaned.

"No!" he said in his grating, high-pitched voice. "The last I knew, he was supposed to be dead!"

As soon as the words tumbled past his lips, Beni knew he'd said too much. He grimaced and the color left his face, and he did his best to force an air of nonchalance too late. Ardeth quirked an eyebrow.

"Why is that?"

Beni shrugged his shoulders and pretended to look confused. "Why is what?"

Ardeth took a breath, but Rick stepped forward and took Beni by the collar before the agent could patiently question him. Beni let out a yelp as his back connected with the wall, and Rick pinned him there, a foot or so off the ground.

"Nobody's got time to play games, buddy," Rick said in a strained voice.

Beni met his gaze with a smugly juvenile expression. "Fuck you, O'Connell. I am in the Scarab Society now. They are a lot scarier than you and your friend over there."

Rick cocked his head to the side, a grim and sarcastic smile on his face. He started to chuckle darkly, but Ardeth's calm, cultured voice intervened:

"Mr. Gabor, I would firmly caution you against making your allegiances known prematurely."

Beni's brow furrowed, and he looked between his stepbrother and the agent in confusion.

"What?"

Rick sighed. "Don't sell yourself to the wrong side so soon."

Beni gave him a snide look before turning his attention across the room to Ardeth again.

"Oh? What is in it for me?"

"No jail time," Ardeth returned smoothly. He added with a small shrug, "or at least less of it."

Beni jerked up his chin as defiantly as he could muster. "Jail time for what? I am not stupid. I know my rights. I have not even violated parole - "

"Associating with known criminals _is_ a violation of parole," Ardeth said. "But I was referring to your involvement in the murder of Baltus Hafez."

Megan breathed a little gasp, her eyes flashing up to Beni with a strange, haunted expression. She stared at him with consideration; she hadn't heard the name of Baltus Hafez in a while, but she certainly couldn't forget it. Her father's colleague, a man she might have met vaguely once or twice, found dead in his stately home with his throat slit five years ago. Something within her felt cold at the reminder. She hadn't expected to hear a familiar name amidst these strangers. She'd barely been able to pay attention to the conversation with that body on the floor, growing colder by the minute, but no one else seemed to notice.

She glanced away from Beni and happened to catch the eyes of the nurse (what was her name?) sitting on the couch. The grim but nervous look on her pale face said she also hadn't forgotten about the body of the man who'd been so intent on killing both of them only earlier that day. An irritable, high-pitched voice broke their gaze and dragged Megan back to the matter at hand.

"Alright," Beni muttered, shooting a dark look at Rick. "I will take you to Meela, okay? Would that make you happy?"

Rick glanced over his shoulder and met Ardeth's gaze. The agent gave him a nod. Beni breathed a rasping sigh.

"Now will you put me down?"


	25. The Hotel California

**_D_****_isclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song, "Hotel California" by The Eagles. __Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**The Hotel California**

Meela's printer had just finished printing Dr. Chamberlain's bording pass, and she was skimming through the contacts in her phone to dial his number when her door opened. The sound made her jump in the lonely silence she'd been sitting in; Imhotep had left her to attend to the menial task of fulfilling Dr. Chamberlain's travel demands while he'd taken it upon himself to go down to the docks and make some collections. He was amused by the rumors that he was a phantom; so many of his own underlings believed he was a mythic figurehead, conjured up by Meela so that she could maintain control, and others believed after months and years of absence that he was dead. He liked to "rise from the grave" after a long trip, and show up when no one was expecting him, and see the flabbergasted shock on their faces as they fumbled for the hundreds and hundreds of dollars they owed him.

Imhotep had only left about an hour before Meela's door opened, and she wasn't expecting the door to be opening any time soon. But it opened, and there was goddamned Beni Gabor, leaning against her wall as if she'd given him her spare key and he came by regularly for Sunday brunch.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, her nerves still shaking a little from surprise. She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and straightened her shoulders, and was ready to take on this pathetic little excuse for a man.

Beni folded his arms over his chest. "That is funny. I was about to ask Lock the exact same thing," he retorted in his grating whine. "Before he started trying to shoot everybody in my sister's apartment."

Meela's eyes widened briefly before she resumed her previous stance.

"Look - "

"No, you look," he interrupted. "We had a deal and you did not follow through on your end. And now the FBI is on my ass, so if you think for a minute that I won't tell them your little plan to get rid of Mayor Seti, you are crazy!"

Between his attempted toughness and the almost comical deepening of his accent from agitation, Meela was incredibly annoyed. Between Dr. Chamberlain intentionally going over her head with this Carnahan siblings business and Imhotep releasing Lock from prison without consulting her, Meela had had enough. She wasn't about to get pushed around by a dumb criminal nobody like Beni Gabor.

"You know what, Dracula? I don't have time for this," she said dismissively, crossing over to her printer and glancing over the boarding pass as if it was remarkably more important than his presence.

He wheezed a mocking laugh. "Oh, 'Dracula,' that is_ really_ funny, Meela. Like I haven't heard that before."

"I don't care if you've heard it," she said. "You sound ridiculous." Meela's eyes flitted up to him and narrowed. "Now I don't care how you got in here, you can see yourself out."

Beni snorted, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a cigarette. "I am not going anywhere."

"You can't smoke in here."

He ignored her and lit up. Meela felt her whole body tense. Oh, what she wouldn't give to smack him hard across his stupid, weaselly face. Before she had a chance to tell herself to calm down, she stormed across the room, yanked the cigarette out of his mouth, and crushed it under her heeled foot. He looked scandalized and reached for another, but she grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

"I said you can't smoke here. My God!"

He muttered to himself in another language before giving her a hard glare. "You are being a real bitch, you know? Didn't you hear me say I would tell the FBI everything?"

"That's a bluff," she said coolly. "And a bad one at that."

Beni nearly pouted. "I am not bluffing! They want you. They want the Scarab Society. And they really,_ really_ want Imhotep."

Meela swallowed quietly and hoped he didn't see it. She stared at him steadily, focusing all of her attention on looking relaxed. She knew the FBI was after her; she knew every move she made was being scrutinized by that damn agent, Ardeth Bay. But she couldn't let Beni know he held any cards, even if the Bureau was trying to use him against her. Beni Gabor was a mercenary at best and a dirty little rat at his worst, and God knew he was always at his worst. She wanted to kick herself for letting herself react before thinking; now he was all worked up about the FBI when she could have quieted that noise down at the beginning of the conversation by addressing this business about Lock...

_Lock._ She almost frowned thoughtfully, but stopped herself. He couldn't know, or even try to guess at what she was thinking. He'd said Lock had come to his sister's apartment and tried to shoot everyone, and now the FBI was "on his ass." Which meant...that snivelling little son of a bitch! Which meant that Lock was either dead and the FBI knew and got a hold of Beni, or that Beni had run scared from Lock's attack and was bribing the FBI with information.

Either way, he was already working with them. She glanced down at his torso nonchalantly. He was probably wearing a wire, but he was so thin and his shirt was so loose that she couldn't tell for sure. Meela glanced back up into his eyes.

That snivelling son of a bitch.

"Let's start over," she said calmly, taking half a step back and shifting her weight to one foot in a casual slouch. "You said that Lock was at your apartment?"

"My sister's apartment," he corrected, taken aback by her change of tone and demeanor. He looked so confused she nearly smiled.

"I'm sorry about that," she said smoothly. "I didn't know he was released. He was lined up to be taken care of. I saw to the arrangements myself. But Imhotep released him without my knowledge. I didn't have time to tell you."

Beni blinked and started to stammer a few different responses before closing his mouth and shrugging. He seemed to have no idea what to say to her, and he'd certainly never heard her apologize before.

"But no one sent him after you," she continued easily. "How he ended up at your sister's apartment must be an unfortunate misunderstanding. He was sent on some other errands, but none of them involved you. But I understand why you would be upset, and I think I ought to make it up to you."

Beni's brow furrowed in such confusion, and he kept glancing back at her door as if he had a line-reader waiting backstage. He thrust his hands into his pockets and shrugged.

"Y-yes," he finally managed, his eyes sparking with an idea. "Yes, you do owe me. Because of Mayor Seti and what you asked me to do - "

The corner of her mouth turned in a smile. "I don't want to talk about Mayor Seti. I'm talking about you. What would you want from me, Beni? If you could have _anything_ from me, what would it be?"

Beni cleared his throat and glanced at the door again, but Meela wasn't going to give him another opportunity to try to trap her into talking about John Seti's murder. She was smarter than him and she knew it. Smarter than him and smarter than Dr. Chamberlain, and even...even smarter than Imhotep, though she didn't like to compare herself to him and make it some sort of competition. But she_ was_ smarter, and she was tired of being overlooked and forgotten and dismissed to do silly things like book flights and seduce the politician who had mistreated her to his death. She was tired of being pushed around because they were men and she was a woman. She was tired of it...but she knew the way to push back.

"Imhotep won't be back for hours," she said quietly, giving him a wink. She pushed the straps of her dress off of her shoulders and slid the close-fitting fabric off of her body, and stood there only in the matching black lace bra and underwear she'd worn for Imhotep, and her heels.

She hated Beni's shocked but hungry gaze and the stupid way his mouth hung open a little. She'd always kind of hated that expression on a man's face, but this was the way. This was the only way she knew how to push men around.

"Now it's your turn," she told him, taking a few steps to close the space between them. She started to unbutton his collar, but he swatted her hands away, almost desperately. Her eyes narrowed, and she grabbed hold of his shirt, giving it a hard yank that sent a few buttons flying and revealed the recording device taped to his chest.

"I knew it!" she shouted, giving him a hard shove that set him off balance and made him fall to the floor. "You worthless little rat bastard of a man! You think you're going to testify against _me?_ You think you're going to put _me_ in prison?"

Beni backpedaled on his hands and feet as Meela threw open the the drawer of her hutch and pulled out a handgun.

"It doesn't work that way, Beni," she said, cocking the gun. "This is the Scarab Society. You don't get to leave."

"Um,_ hello!"_ Beni nearly shrieked at the door, "She has a gun!"

The door burst open, cracking on its hinges. Meela expected it to. She expected a whole team of agents to swarm into her apartment, and she certainly expected to see Ardeth Bay. She expected the barage of voices shouting at her to put her weapon down or they'd shoot. And she was ready. She might have looked to all the world like they'd caught her off-guard, standing there in only her underthings with the barrell of a gun levelled at one of her most useless employees. But she'd expected them the moment she realized Beni had a wire, and she was ready. She didn't even glance at them; her eyes were fixed on that idiot little Hungarian trying to scurry to safety. She didn't even blink at the agents. She fired.

She was swarmed by what felt like a million arms and bodies; the gun was knocked out of her hand and her arms were pinned behind her back. She didn't fight any of it, and let them lock the handcuffs on her wrists. She knew they wouldn't fire. She was much too important a commodity to risk. She was vaguely aware of the confusion going on outside of her; the demands about CPR, and someone making a 911 call...

And then suddenly there was Ardeth Bay, right in her face, looking her directly in the eye. She met his gaze calmly and stood like a statue in front of him, even though she was mostly naked and her arms were cuffed behind her.

"Miss Nais," he said coolly.

"Agent Bay," she returned. "Congratulations. You've got me."

He sighed, glancing in the direction of what she assumed was Beni Gabor's lifeless or mostly lifeless body on the floor before looking back at her.

"You have not left us much hope of cutting a deal with the courts," he said wearily. "You better pray that man lives."

Meela cocked an eyebrow. "Is he still breathing?"

Ardeth nodded. "Barely."

She shrugged airily. "It doesn't matter. You have me. And now Imhotep will be gunning for you."

"Good," Ardeth said, flashing a smile as he turned away from her. "I have been gunning for him for quite some time now."


	26. And the Flames Went Higher

**_D_****_isclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song, "The Ring of Fire" by Johnny Cash. __Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**And the Flames Went Higher  
(_And It Burns, Burns, Burns_)**

Megan let out a sigh, letting her eyes wander to the big window and the rush of downtown Hamunaptra just outside. After Beni had agreed to take Ardeth and Rick to wherever Meela was staying, Ardeth called and made arrangements with the appropriate departments to have Lock's body taken out of the apartment. The women had waited in the grim quiet of the apartment until the body was gone, and then Evelyn said, "Well, I don't know about either of you, but I could go for a strong cup of tea right about now." Megan actually would have preferred a cocktail, but Renee suggested they go to Starbucks, and Megan didn't see any reason to be contradictory. She didn't know these women well enough to be contradictory, and anyway, all she really wanted was to get out of that apartment.

She wouldn't have gone with them at all except that she didn't really want to go home and be by herself, and she'd just as soon be with people who understood what she'd gone through. Rick had promised to call Renee as soon as he could to let them know what had happened, and Megan was desperate to know what she was now indirectly mixed up in. Neither Renee nor Evelyn seemed to fully understand, themselves, so the three women sat in the silence: Evelyn with a cup of Earl Grey and Megan with her second caramel latte of the day, and Renee with an Americano because, "It's pretty much the straight vodka of coffee." Megan wanted to laugh at that, but couldn't manage much more than a half-hearted smile.

"Do you think..."

Megan glanced up to meet Evelyn's uncertain gaze, which she quickly flitted to Renee.

"I mean, would you mind terribly if I invited Jonathan? I'd feel so much better if he was here."

Renee and Megan assured her that he was perfectly welcome, and then it was quiet again. Megan couldn't help glancing at Renee's phone on the table every few seconds, desperately willing it to ring.

She didn't know what to think about these two women she was now having coffee with. Evelyn was much too pretty to be as bookish and shy as she was, and she hid herself between a pair of glasses and a librarian bun. She'd mentioned that she was taking one of Megan's father's classes, but the conversation had fizzled out shortly after that. Megan always tried to be polite when the subject concerned her father, but she simply had nothing in common with him, and she never knew how to interact with people like Evelyn, who so passionately shared his interests. She loved her father dearly, of course, but... well, she sometimes she found herself wondering if he loved anything as much as he (and people like him and Evelyn) loved archeology. She wondered, sometimes, if he even loved her that much...

Renee seemed even stranger to her. She was a pretty girl, put-together and well-dressed, but her whole demeanor... something in the way she spoke, the aggressive way her eyes darted around as if danger was always lurking, something about her hinted at a less-than-sunny past. She was a little old to be in undergrad, so she hadn't gone straight to college out of high school the way most middle class kids did. And then, of course, there was her association with Rick and Beni. More importantly, there was her alleged pregnancy thanks to Beni. Megan had to hide a small grimace at that thought. She stole a glance at Renee's cup and sighed. Maybe he'd been...joking? Or lying? Pregnant women weren't supposed to have caffeine...at least, Megan had thought she'd heard that from one pregnant coworker or another... It seemed like an odd question to ask someone, though. "Are you really pregnant?" It seemed rude, even. So Megan kept her mouth shut.

Suddenly Renee's phone started ringing. The sound made Megan jump, and her eyes flitted to the table, but Renee had snatched up the phone before she could catch the contact name that flashed on the screen. Megan glanced across the table and shared an anxious look with Evelyn. Renee seemed both relieved and disappointed by the voice on the phone, and only took Megan a moment to realize that she wasn't speaking with Rick.

"...Oh, but I used PTO for today, so...Okay, yeah, I understand," Renee was saying, her face a little strained as she glanced at the clock on the wall. "No, no, no, no, don't feel bad about that. I don't want to leave you guys up a creek, you know? ...Yeah... Yeah, I'll be there in like...half an hour. Is that okay? I have to go home and get my scrubs... Yeah... No, don't be... Yeah, really, it's no problem... Okay. See you soon."

She breathed a sigh as she hung up, and glanced at the clock again before look at Evelyn.

"That was my manager. Our floor is just, like...swamped. I have to go in to work for a few hours."

Megan shook her head in surprise. "Are you sure you can work after what happened?"

Renee swallowed hard and quickly nodded her head. "Yeah. I'll be fine. I think I'd rather be working, honestly...I just need to focus on something else..."

She threw back the rest of her coffee and got out of her chair. She gave her phone a thoughtful frown before passing it over to Evelyn.

"If we're really swamped, I'm not going to have time to answer the phone. Tell Rick I went in to work and..." Renee rifled through her purse for a pen and paper, scribbled down a number, and passed it to Evelyn. "That's the nurse's station on my floor. If there's anything...bad, I guess, you can call and ask for me there. I'll get to the phone as soon as I can."

Evelyn nodded, folding the paper neatly and tucking it away in her purse. Renee bid them a hurried goodbye and strode out of the coffeeshop.

Megan glanced across the table at Evelyn. She wanted to come up with something to say, anything that could spark a conversation for a few minutes, but she couldn't think of anything. She was grateful a moment later when a new voice piped in:

"Sorry I've taken so long."

Megan glanced up to see a tall, cheerfully handsome (if a little gangly) man at their table. He leaned down and planted a kiss on Evelyn's head before slipping into the chair next to her. His bright blue eyes turned to Megan, and he gave her a dashing smile.

"Hello, there. I don't believe I've met you before. I'm Evy's brother Jonathan."

He held out his hand, and Megan gave it a polite shake.

"I'm Megan. I only just met your sister this morning..." When Jonathan gave her a puzzled expression, she explained: "I'm with Ardeth Bay."

Jonathan's eyebrows jumped up his forehead in surprise. "Ardeth, you say? Why, I had no idea he was seeing anybody. He's always been so sorrowfully alone at galas and the like, ever since his wife died..."

Megan felt the blood rush to her cheeks. "No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean - Ardeth and I aren't..._together_. I'm just, um...It's hard to explain."

He gave her an understanding nod, his eyes drifting away from her and up to the menu on the wall. He frowned.

"I say, isn't there anything a chap can drink here?" He turned back to Megan. "Can't I get any of that with bourbon in it?"

Evelyn swatted his arm. "Jonathan, this is a coffeehouse!"

His face twisted in a disgruntled expression, and he muttered something about "damn Yanks" and the word "Puritanical," and Megan decided that she liked him quite a bit. If nothing else, he offered a refreshing change from the dismal and awkward silence the women had been sharing up til his arrival.

"I was wanting a drink too, actually," Megan said. Jonathan gave her a wink.

"Well darling, there's a delightful little pub just down the block - "

Evelyn groaned, "Oh, Jonathan, no one wants to go to a pub!"

He rolled his eyes. "You mean _you_ don't want to go to a pub."

His sister huffed a little sigh and took a sip from her cup. Jonathan turned his attention back to Megan.

"You ought to have taken her to a pub, darling. She's actually quite fun after a, uh...what was it you had too many of that time, Evy? Something 'tini'..."

Evelyn crossed her arms over her chest and stared out the window, pretending to ignore him. Jonathan sighed, glancing between the two women before his eyes landed back on Megan.

"So what is the big fuss over, anyway? All day I've gotten nothing but news. This morning I come in to work only to discover the mayor's been found dead, and then some bloody idiot starts shooting outside of the courthouse, and they trap me in there for hours on lockdown. Right through lunch! Darling, it was the grimmest ordeal you've ever heard of."

Megan let out a little laugh. It was the first time she'd laughed in quite a while, and it felt good. "Was it?"

"Oh, yes," he continued with feigned severity. "All of those important, local government types trapped inside, all of those delectible little restaurants just outside the door... Grim, I tell you, like _Lord of the Flies_. We ended up roasting and eating an intern. I swear on my life."

Now Evelyn was chuckling, too. Quietly, with shaking shoulders, and she turned and gave her brother an affectionate, scolding glance.

"You're a mess, Jonathan," she said. "An absolute mess."

He opened his mouth to retort, but he was interrupted by Renee's phone. Instantly, all of the lighthearted ease that Jonathan's presence had brought was stolen away from Megan, and she sat there with muscles tensed, her hands clenched into fists in her lap as Evelyn fumbled for the phone. It slipped through her fingers and she whispered "Drat!" as she snatched it off of the table again and brought it to her ear.

"Hello?...No, this is Evelyn, Renee had to go into work - Oh, dear... Oh, my God..."

Evelyn sat there quietly, nodding her head for what felt like an eternity. Megan just stared at the table, straining her ears to catch the faint, muffled voice on the other line, but she couldn't hear a thing over the bustle of the coffeehouse. A strange expression past over Evelyn's face, and then she held the phone out to Megan.

"Ardeth wants to talk to you."

Megan frowned thoughtfully, and took the phone. She heard muffled noises that were likely the sound of Rick handing his phone off to Ardeth, and then his voice:

"Hello?"

She let out an anxious sigh. "Ardeth? What happened?"

"We arrested Meela. She shot Beni." His voice was agitated and sounded strange to her. She started to ask if Beni was alright, but he interrupted her: "We found something...odd...in Meela's apartment."

Megan wasn't sure how to respond. "Okay..."

She heard him take a deep breath, and the commanding, authoritative change of tone in his voice startled her. "I need you to be completely honest with me, Megan, because we will find out one way or another. Believe me."

Her heart started to pound faster, but she didn't know why. What could he have possibly found in Meela's apartment that had to do with her?

"What is your father's relationship with Meela Nais and the Scarab Society?"


	27. Maybe There's a God Above

**_D_****_isclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song, "Hallelujah" by Jeff Buckley. __Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**Maybe There's a God Above  
_(But All I Ever Learned from Love was How to Shoot Somebody Who Outdrew You)_**

"Hey, Renee?"

Renee sucked in a little breath, whirling around to meet her coworker's frazzled, pleading gaze. Renee's hand was desperate on her ID, _this_ close to making it to the time clock and calling it a day. Her manager thanked her profusely for coming in and working these past six crazy hours, and now she said she was free to go home. She was just about to tell Tonya - the nurse who'd called her name - that she was going home, and nothing on earth was going to keep her in this hospital another second. But she felt pity for Tonya, with one hand gripping a water pitcher and the other grasping a handful of medication, and her big, six-month-pregnant belly in between.

"I'm so sorry," Tonya said, "I just - would you mind taking this pitcher down to Fifteen? I know he wasn't yours today, but he's driving me nuts and I really need to get this Percocet to Eighteen, and Amy just went on her break - "

Renee took the water pitcher from her hand with a tired smile. "Sure. No problem."

Tonya gave her a grateful smile. "Oh, my gosh, thank you! He'll probably have a million other things he thinks he wants - he's been a real pain in the ass since they took him off the ventilator - but I swear he's just doing it for attention. And when he asks about his morphine, which he's totally going to, tell him that he's still got another half hour before it's due."

Renee nodded, the polite, forced smile already slipping from her face as she started as quickly as her aching feet could carry her. Great. The last thing she wanted to deal with right now, on a day like today, was a needy patient. When she made it to Room 15, she took a deep breath, donned the cheeriest expression she could muster, and knocked on the door before slipping inside.

The room was dark except for the glow from the TV, which flashed rapidly as the images changed with every flick of the remote. The patient let out a groan, and Renee stopped in her tracks.

"That took long enough," he said.

Renee's body tensed, and there was nothing she could think to say in the short silence before he finally turned his head from the television screen and looked at her. She couldn't move, and for a full minute she just stood there, clutching the water pitcher in one hand and her ID in the other, staring at him.

"What happened?" she finally managed to whisper.

His eyes became big and woeful. "Meela shot me."

She swallowed hard. "Where?"

"In the chest. They said it hit my lung or something. I don't know. They patched it up and now all they want to talk to me about is quitting smoking."

Despite herself, Renee let out a chuckle. "Yeah, you really shouldn't be doing that."

He snorted, and his eyes dropped to the water pitcher in her hand.

"So are you going to bring that over or what?"

She heaved a sigh and finally crossed the room over to his bed. Her eyes scanned his bedside tray, and she refilled the glass sitting there.

"You must be doing pretty good if they already took you off the ventilator."

He let out another snort and carefully brought the glass of water to his lips. "Yes, well. There is a reason they called me 'The Roach' in high school."

Renee offered him a sad smile. "I'm glad you're alive."

Beni sighed. "What a fucking day."

Renee slowly lowered herself into the chair at his bedside. She hadn't had a chance to sit down since she left Starbucks all those hours ago, and she felt at once relieved and groggy to be off her feet. She couldn't get over how exhausted she felt all the time. Ever since she'd seen those two blue lines on the pregnancy tests, it was as if all of her energy had just...drained away. She found herself longing for her bed, but she couldn't leave Beni - at least not until he made it clear he wanted to be alone - and she didn't particularly want to return to her apartment, either.

"This morning I find out you're knocked up," Beni started up in his whiny tone, "and then O'Connell comes by and I have to see_ him_, and then Lock tries to kill me, and that bastard FBI agent shows up and makes me take him to Meela, and then I get shot, and now I am in the hospital with a fat nurse who gets off on withholding my medicine."

Renee let out an exasperated sigh. "She's not fat, she's pregnant, and you're not due for your meds for another half hour."

Beni crossed his arms over his chest. "She always says that, and then it is hours before I get anything."

She shot him a look. "Beni...could you just..._try_ not to be a douchebag to the nurses? They have a lot of people to take care of."

He stared at her with big, pitiful eyes and nearly pouted. "I am not being a douchebag. I am just in pain."

Renee started to say something, but stopped herself. Despite the fact that her day had also been very trying, she'd at least avoided getting shot... which was more than she could say for Beni. And as aggrevating as he was, there was no sense in telling him to "suck it up." For perhaps the first time in his life, Beni had gotten hurt doing something for the good of someone else - even if it was indirectly to his own benefit - and she supposed she should just be sympathetic instead.

"Sorry," she finally said, glancing up at the TV a moment. They watched a car commercial together in silence, both distinctly absent-minded as the cool, silver body of one sports car or another slid down a curving street and tried to convince them it was the very key to their happiness. "Are you here alone?" she asked after another moment.

"O'Connell was here," he said. The silence fell between them again. Renee was about to ask where he was, but Beni interrupted with the answer she was looking for: "That agent called him and he had to go. I think they're gay for each other."

"That's mature."

Beni snorted. "Maybe they will move in together and adopt our baby."

Renee rose her eyebrows. "So it's 'our baby' now, huh?"

"It is your baby. And my problem."

She sucked in a little breath and tried to relax all the muscles that had just tightened down her spine. "Look, I'm not going to argue with you after you've been shot."

"Good. Now shut up," he retorted. "I am trying to watch the news."

Renee glanced up at the television, surprised to find he'd settled on a channel after all his surfing. She met the eyes of a grim-faced news anchor before quickly flicking her glance back to Beni. She felt so lost. After hours of mindlessly waiting on patients, helping one up to the toilet and bringing another a Coke for what felt like an eternity, she realized that she didn't know anything. She didn't know what had passed between Beni and Meela (except a bullet, of course), and she didn't know if Ardeth was any closer to catching Imhotep, or solving the muddled mystery surrounding Evelyn and Jonathan's addresses in Lock's phone. She also didn't have her cell phone on her, so she couldn't call anyone to find out.

Suddenly she remembered her ID card, still clutched in her hand, and jumped to her feet. "Crap, I need to go clock out quick. I'll be right back, okay?"

Beni didn't even glance away from the screen, flashing with images of the deceased mayor.

"I killed Joh Seti."

Renee's breath caught in her throat, and she stood there for a moment in a shock that rapidly gave way to anger.

"Damnit, Beni."

He smirked quietly to himself. "And I am going to get away with it. Just watch."

"I told you not to tell me these things," she said, her eyes flashing at him. "I told you not to make me lie again for you."

Beni glanced up at her and shrugged. "Like you would turn in the father of your child."

Renee started to retort something, but Beni's face suddenly brightened.

"Oh, look. _The Big Lebowski_ is on."

She shot him a glare, and wanted to demand what was wrong with him, if he was some kind of sociopath... killing the mayor and daring her to rat on him, and then forgetting it all the moment Jeff Bridges in a bathrobe sauntered onto the screen. But a short knock on the door interrupted the verbal tirade she was preparing in her head, and she turned around to see the floor secretary in the doorway.

"Oh, so you didn't go home," she said. She sounded out of breath. "I've been looking for you. You've got a call waiting up at the desk. I don't know who it is, but he said he'd hold until you came to the phone, no matter how long it took."

Renee's brow furrowed curiously, but she nodded her head. She turned and told Beni goodbye, but he was so caught up in his movie, he barely noticed. With a sigh, she followed the secretary's quick steps down the hall, to the nurses' station. The secretary pointed to a phone and told her which line the call was waiting on before going back to her business. Renee picked up the receiver and pushed the flashing button of the busy line, waiting for Rick's voice to answer when she said, "This is Renee."

"Yes, Renee." The smooth, cold voice on the other line was distinctly male, but it certainly wasn't Rick's. Renee wracked her mind for a point of familiarity, but she was certain she'd never heard this voice before.

"Yes..." she said cautiously. "Who is this?"

"My father named me Ahmad, but no one has called me that in many years. I believe you'll know me better as Imhotep. Do you have a moment to talk?"


	28. Fever

**_Author's Note. _**_So it's been a little while for this story. It's "turn" to be updated has been neglected several rounds, but I am damn-near determined to update all of my stories this week (and even finish "A Good Time." What?). So, finally, the next installment of this._

**_D_****_isclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song, "Fever" by Peggy Lee. __Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**Fever**

Ardeth ran a hand through his hair and took a seat at the table in the interrogation room. He pretended to glance into one of his folders, but he knew the strength he needed couldn't be found there. His mind felt hazy and heavy - not at all the way he wanted to feel as he straightened in his chair and looked Meela Nais in the eye.

"Agent Bay," she said smoothly. "We meet again."

He let out a sigh. "Miss Nais - "

"Meela."

Ardeth raised an eyebrow. "Oh, then it is Meela now? Not Annika?"

She gave him a coy little smirk. "Call me whatever you like, baby."

He smiled humorlessly. "Nice try. I trust you have proper identification for both."

"And then some."

She crossed her legs and folded her hands on the table in front of her, meeting his eyes with a cool evenness that unnerved him. Even if she wasn't a beautiful woman, her arrogant confidence would have made him feel like his control of the situation was shifting precariously in his hands; but her dark, flashing eyes and the pretty way her mouth tipped in a cruel smile gave him a little-experienced sensation of helplessness. He cleared his throat and glanced at his files again. The heavy words printed across the paper were dismal at best for Miss Nais, and he suddenly felt appropriately in control.

"Meela. I think we both know what a desperate situation you are in right now."

Meela didn't look desperate as she airily flipped a strand of hair out of her eyes. "You mean because of my unfortunate conversation with Mr. Gabor."

"Is 'conversation' slang for shooting someone in the chest now?" Ardeth said dryly. Meela gave him another of her cruel, relaxed smiles.

"We did not see things eye to eye."

Ardeth let out a heavy sigh and met her gaze. "Meela, I am not here to play games."

"Then quit rolling the dice," she said, leaning forward a little. "I am not stupid, Agent Bay. I know what you are going to say to me, and I know you have nothing."

Ardeth stood up, staring at her with wide eyes. "We can convict you on attempted murder faster than you can blink, Miss Nais. That is ten years at least. Do you still consider that nothing?"

"Nothing," she said coolly. "Are you playing a game, Med-Jai, or are you really so stupid? Because I do not believe for one second that your agents have been stalking me only to put me away for the attempted murder of a low-level parole-skipping idiot thief like Beni Gabor."

Ardeth settled slowly back down in his seat, staring into her eyes for a moment that felt much longer than it probably was. He took a deep breath, and nodded his head.

"That is correct," he said quietly. He sucked in a little breath, and met her gaze again. "We would like to put you away for murdering Agent Burns. So it is remarkably convenient of you to shoot Mr. Gabor with so many agents around to make an arrest."

Meela actually laughed aloud. "Really, Agent Bay? We're going to have to go through all of this as well?"

Ardeth's brow furrowed in confusion, and she looked almost insulted.

"Cut to the chase," she said coldly. "I know why I am here, and you are wasting my time. This has nothing to do with Beni Gabor or Agent Burns. You do not even want me behind bars."

"Oh, I do," Ardeth retorted. "Do not doubt it. You will spend the rest of your life in prison."

Meela gave him a tight-lipped smile. "I look marvelous in orange."

"I'm sure your fellow inmates will agree."

Her eyes narrowed. "I spent five years in a Libyan prison. Do you really think you can intimidate me with a place that lets criminals leave_ early_ on 'good behavior'?"

Ardeth raised his eyebrows, chancing a look at the diamond-studded Rolex around Meela's wrist. Out of curiosity, he glanced up and caught sight of princess-cut diamond studs in her ears. He turned his gaze to hers incredulously.

"For all of your talk, Miss Nais, I find it hard to believe that you would gladly give up wearing such beautiful and expensive jewelry to sit in prison."

Meela smirked. "Ah, at last we're coming to it."

Ardeth frowned thoughtfully. "Coming to what?"

"To what you really want," she said. "You don't want me. We both know that."

Ardeth started to argue with her, but stopped himself. He met Meela in her dark eyes, which felt as if they might close around him and engulf him in their very blackness. He looked at her and asked:

"Then what is it I want?"

She straightened in her seat, and watched him for a moment. Ardeth got the distinct feeling that he was being measured.

"Imhotep," she said simply.

Ardeth's gaze didn't waver from hers. "I do. But how do I know you have the power or evidence to give him to me?"

Meela's teeth flashed briefly in a smile. "If you thought I couldn't, you would not bother questioning me right now."

He shrugged. "Then the question is...will you?"

"Give up Imhotep?" She glanced up at the ceiling thoughtfully, and for the first time she appeared not to know what she wanted to say, or how she wanted to say it. Ardeth waited, trying not to notice the deep cut of her blouse. He turned his gaze quickly to his files, and stared at them without reading a word for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, he felt her eyes on him again. "I might consider it, if you dropped all of my charges."

Ardeth shook his head. "You are wanted for murder and attempted murder. It cannot be done."

She gave him a condescending smile. "Oh, but it can, Agent Bay."

He raised his eyebrows. "You sound as if you know just how."

Meela's smile was unmoved. "Well, I would hate to do your work for you, Agent Bay. But if you convince Mr. Gabor not to press charges - money ought to do the trick, and an embarrassingly small sum of it, too - "

"That's bribery."

" - and insufficient evidence, in the case of Agent Burns," Meela continued as if he hadn't said anything at all.

Ardeth scoffed. "I have the sworn witness of two FBI agents identifying you as the gunman."

"I prefer gunwoman," she said. "And _please_. Any decent lawyer could paint that as a calculated conspiracy against me -"

Ardeth shook his head. "You are joking, right? That is a joke."

Meela met his gaze evenly. "I am not joking."

"Would you like to try out your little theory in a court of law?"

She smirked. "Oh, I don't know. Have you found any witnesses besides two men who happen to work in your department?"

Ardeth's eyes widened, dark frustration creeping into his features. Meela's smirk sweetened to a small smile.

"I thought not."

Ardeth shook his head in amazement. Surely she couldn't think such a scheme to dismiss her charges would work. At best he could offer her a reduced sentence, but even that was bleak...the Bureau was willing to look the other way for drug dealers and thieves if it meant catching a mob boss, but murder? Ardeth couldn't dismiss murder charges. Even if his conscience would allow such a thing, he doubted he could find a judge willing to go along with it.

He took a deep breath, and played his last card. "You know, Mr. Gabor has suggested that perhaps you're the real mastermind behind the Scarab Society."

Meela's brow furrowed, and she glanced up at Ardeth with a strange look on her face. He just barely caught a glimpse of her throat contracting as she swallowed, and then resumed her previously cool air.

"Does he?"


	29. A Graying Tower

**_D_****_isclaimer. _**_The characters of _The Mummy_ and_ The Mummy Returns,_ originally written by Stephen Sommers, are the property of Universal Studios. This chapter title is taken from the song, "Kissed by a Rose" by Seal. __Elements of this story were inspired by a fic published (and since removed) years ago, titled _The Learning Curve_. I wish I could remember who wrote it. Though I promise, it's not a rip-off._

* * *

**A Graying Tower**

"Megan?"

She startled at the sound of her name, and turned in surprise to see Daniels coming down the hall towards her. She gave him a sad but polite smile, and watched his face study hers curiously. He sat down next to her in the lobby of the FBI headquarters Hamunaptra branch, and reached an arm around her shoulders to give her a side hug, which she only half-heartedly leaned into.

"What are you doin' here?" he asked. She let out a sigh.

"It's kind of a long story."

Daniels raised his eyebrows quizzically, but didn't inquire further. He leaned back in his chair and pretended to glance around at the vacant lobby for a moment before returning his gaze to hers.

"Is there...somebody you're waitin' for or somethin'? I can get 'em. Half the time they're just screwin' around in their office - "

Megan shook her head. "Just Arde-Agent Bay. He's in the interrogation room right now."

"Oh." Daniels sighed, and muttered more to himself than to her, "Wonder what that's about."

Megan pressed her lips into a thin line. She gazed at her hands until she couldn't bear to be silent any more. She hadn't wanted to tell Daniels - or anyone she knew - why she was here, but she felt so utterly, so unbearably alone.

"They have my father in custody," she told him quietly. When she glanced up at Daniels, she wasn't surprised to see the look of shock on his face.

"You're kidding. For what?"

Megan could only shrug her shoulders helplessly. "I don't know... He's been connected to the Scarab Society somehow. Ardeth is letting me listen in."

Daniels looked more puzzled than ever, and he watched her with a suspicious kind of curiosity. "Really? Mr. By-the-book is lettin' a civilian on the other side 'a the mirror? I never thought I'd see the day."

She forced a nonchalant smile and shrugged. "Yeah. Who knows."

But he continued to watch her with that same not-quite-trusting expression. He started to ask her a few different things and stopped himself, and Megan's heart just kept beating faster every time he opened his mouth. She prayed he wouldn't say anything more about Ardeth's unusual admission, but in his regular fashion, Daniels finally just blurted:

"Look, it's none 'a my business, but is there somethin' goin' on here I should know about?"

Megan wanted to scoff and ask him why on earth he thought anything she did was his business, but there was no demanding such things of Daniels. He and Bernard were close friends, and Daniels was as protective of Megan as a brother. She swallowed hard and looked him in the eye.

"There's just - we've been talking. That's all."

"Talking?"

She sighed, irritated with his incredulous expression. "Yes. He lost his wife, I lost Bernard - he gets it."

Daniels raised his eyebrows. "Huh." He seemed to be mulling this all over in his head, and finally shrugged. "Well, guess that makes sense."

Relief flooded Megan's heart, and she relaxed a little in her seat. They sat there together quietly for a moment, and Megan assumed the subject was dismissed. But then:

"I mean, it's good to talk. It's not like you're sleepin' with him or nothin'."

She glanced up at him in shock, and he stared back at her with a kind of challenging glint in his eye, daring her to confirm or deny his accusation. It was classic Daniels, the man in a textbook: demanding what he didn't know in a way that only he found subtle.

"Why would you say that?" she asked, her voice sounding angrier than she meant it to.

He held up his hands in defeat, his mouth set in a kind of innocent frown. "Hey, I'm just lookin' out for you, girl. You're in this whole...state 'a grief thing; I just want to make sure you're not makin' any mistakes you can't take back."

Megan sucked in a little breath and looked him dead in the eye. "I'm fine."

Just then, a secretary approached and told Megan that Agent Bay was ready for her now. She could feel Daniels watching her, and glanced at him briefly before standing up.

"I'll see you later," she said.

He was still watching her. "You want me to come with?"

"I got it. Thanks."

Daniels stood up anyway. "I'm comin' along."

Megan shot him a glare as the two of them followed the secretary down the hall. "I said I've got it."

"I know," he said, his voice suddenly soft in a way that surprised her. "But you don't know what you're gonna see in there. And you might just like a friend."

She glanced over at him, and he smirked a little. "Even one who just pissed you the hell off."

Despite herself, Megan kind of chuckled, and nodded her head. They followed the secretary in silence, and were let into a dark room outfitted with all kinds of recording equipment, and a huge window that looked into the interrogation room. There were a couple agents in the room running the recording equipment; they might have breathed a hello before returning to their work. Megan took a deep breath, and walked right up to the window, gazing into the simple, white room that housed only a table and two chairs. In one of the chairs, her father was already sitting. He turned and glanced at the window, right into her eyes. Megan gasped in surprise.

"He can't see you," Daniels whispered. "He can't hear you, neither. It just looks like a big mirror on his side."

Megan nodded. "I know. I've seen a movie or two."

He laughed quietly to himself, and took a step closer to her. At first she was irritated by his closeness, but then Ardeth walked through the door of the interrogation room with a folder, and took a seat across from her father. Her heart started pounding in her chest, and suddenly, she appreciated Daniels' proxemity.

"Dr. Chamberlain," Ardeth said. "It's nice to make your acquaintance. My name is Agent Ardeth Bay."

"I know who you are," Dr. Chamberlain said in his clipped, cold voice.

Ardeth nearly smiled. "Of course. Your daughter's fiance worked for me."

"Until his death."

Ardeth glanced down. "Yes."

The corner of Dr. Chamberlain's mouth twitched in a way Megan knew all too well. She felt her stomach tighten as he straightened in his seat and folded his hands on the table.

"So why is it you've decided to drag me to this fine establishment? Is this a demonstration of my tax dollars at work?"

Ardeth opened his file and sighed. "I'm afraid that is not the case. We've acquired some evidence that raises some serious questions as to your relationship to one Meela Nais."

Dr. Chamberlain rose his eyebrows. "Is having acquaintances a grievous offense to the federal government, now?"

Ardeth met his gaze evenly. "So you do confirm having a relationship with Ms. Nais."

"Only in the most technical sense of the word. I've met her briefly."

"I see," Ardeth said. He flipped through his file and pulled out a few documents, passing them over to the professor. "Would you care to explain why Ms. Nais had these in her possession at her time of arrest?"

Dr. Chamberlain studied the documents carefully, and shrugged. "I don't know why she would have these."

Ardeth's gaze flitted up to the mirror, and even though he hadn't managed to look _at_ her, Megan knew he'd done it for her, as a signal. Maybe as an apology. He quickly turned his attention back to Dr. Chamberlain.

"That is interesting. Because she does."

Dr. Chamberlain scoffed under his breath. "Well, I would hope so. You said they were in her possession."

Ardeth quirked an eyebrow. "She said she had these documents made up, and arranged this one-way ticket at your behest, in exchange for some information you offered to her employer, Imhotep."

Megan sucked in a little gasp, and she suddenly felt a little dizzy. She was vaguely aware of Daniels watching her, and his hand suddenly on her shoulder. She bit down on her lip and kept her eyes fastened on her father, studying his every little motion. He appeared to be calm, but Megan was quite certain that he was inwardly a mess of nerves. Her father had a need to be in control of every situation, and it was very clear - to Megan at least - that he was barely grappling onto any sense of it in that interrogation room.

At last he kind of smiled, and forced a laugh. "Well. That's an fascinating take on the truth. I must commend Ms. Nais on that."

Megan glanced away from him to watch Ardeth's reaction, but the agent's face was unreadable. He might have raised his eyebrows a little, but she wasn't certain even that much of a change occurred on his face. He let a moment pass in silence, and then folded his hands on the table, mimicking her father's posture.

"What_ is_ the truth then, Dr. Chamberlain?"

Megan listened to her father tell about Meela approaching him - probably after stalking him for weeks - and demanding the information he'd researched regarding John Seti's family line. She listened to his brisk, dismissive voice and watched the wooden way his face moved as he told the story, and she knew. She knew deep in the pit of her stomach, beyond any doubt, that he was lying.

He was lying.

"That's very interesting," Ardeth said, his tone as unreadable as his face. "But it doesn't shed any light on the documents..."

Dr. Chamberlain shrugged. "How should I know why she printed the things? Perhaps to kill me and cover it up?"

Ardeth nodded slowly. "Perhaps. Though it is odd that she would draw up both a certificate of death and book the plane ticket to Egypt. Wouldn't it make for two contradicting alibis?"

The two men watched each other for a moment that seemed to drag on like an eternity for Megan. Everything inside her was tense, and she felt vaguely nauseous, but she fought to ignore it. She kept telling herself she wanted to hear this, she needed to hear this, even though her strongest instinct was to bolt out of the room, and maybe Hamunaptra, forever.

Her father smiled again, a strained, angry smile, and repeated, "How should I know why she printed the things?"

Ardeth glanced down, and nodded his head. "You are right. I am asking you to speculate on the motives of someone else. I apologize."

Dr. Chamberlain seemed to relax a little, and almost leaned back in his chair. Ardeth turned his attention to his file for a moment before glancing up at the professor again.

"Just one more thing, if you don't mind."

Dr. Chamberlain said nothing, but the way he glanced up at the ceiling and nodded his head gave the impression that he felt terribly inconvenienced.

"What was the information you gave to Imhotep, about John Seti?"

Dr. Chamberlain appeared almost relieved by the question. "It was information regarding two of his lost relatives."

Ardeth's frowned curiously. "What would Imhotep want with that?"

A smug smile stretched across the professor's face, and he looked so unbearably arrogant that even Megan felt a strange, itching urge to hit him.

"You mean you don't know?"

Ardeth didn't even blink at his condescending tone. "No. But I would be very interested to find out."

Dr. Chamberlain studied Ardeth's face curiously, his brow furrowing at the marks across his forehead and cheekbones. At last he looked the agent in the eye again and said:

"Surely with your upbringing, you're aware of the Ahmad scandal."

Megan's gaze was fixated on Ardeth. She watched the nervous jerk of his throat, and the distracted way he kept glancing at his papers. She didn't have to (and didn't want to) look at her father to know the very pleased way he was sitting there now, comfortably in control again.

"Yes," Ardeth said quietly.

"And you remember the boy who sought revenge, I presume?"

Ardeth nodded. Dr. Chamberlain smirked. "John Seti is an Ahmad."

Ardeth leaned back in his chair, heaving a sigh. He reached a hand up and rubbed his face.

"And Imhotep is the boy," Ardeth said so quietly, Megan might not have heard it if it wasn't being recorded in front of her. She watched him look up at her father again, his dutiful demeanor fitted perfectly back into place again.

"Tell me, Dr. Chamberlain, do you believe John Seti died by accident?"

Dr. Chamberlain scoffed. "Please, Agent Bay. I am no fool. And neither are you."

Ardeth turned and looked right at the mirror, and this time his eyes managed to pierce Megan's so directly, she could have sworn he was really seeing her. She saw a new, deeper determination in those black depths that made her strangely nervous for him.

"Shit," Daniels muttered under his breath. The sound made Megan jump, and pulled her back into the darkness of the room, reminding her that she wasn't there with Ardeth.

"Oh, yeah?" she managed to say.

He nodded grimly. "Shit's about to get real. If he's right, and that Imhotep bastard did get the mayor murdered, we might finally get to close the file on this Scarab Society shit."


End file.
